Guns of the Imperium
by Inquisitor Herron
Summary: In the grim darkness of the far future there is only war. Not that Inquisitor Ignatius knows that, the mad inquisitor will survive in this dark galaxy through sheer luck, unwilling help, and pure unbreakable insanity.
1. Chapter 1

GUNS of the IMPERIUM

Prologue: An Isolated Incident 

"From the memoir of Commissar Tarkus"

_There are men in the Imperium that are naturally above the rank and file, men of valor and courage whose dedication to the Emperor Of Man has been measured in deeds worthy of legend. And it is these men who shall sit at the side of his most holy worship's hand in the afterlife in payment for the service they gave. That being said, there are also men whose insanity is so boundless and destructive that there is no choice but to unleash them upon the enemies of man and pray that they kill some of them in the process... Inquisitor Dante Ignatius was one such man.  
_  
Over time one became accustomed to the constant and penetrating hum of machinery on an Imperial vessel. Inquisitor Delphios had been aboard more ships through out his life than he had bothered to count, but still he found the sound nerve grinding. And his current predicament did nothing to aid in the stretching mental discipline of the seasoned old man. Over the holo projector Delphios's contact repeated himself, trying to get Delphios out of his silence.

"How long do we have?" He asked again, grave voice crackling over the holo display. Inquisitor Delphios sighed wearily and rubbed his eyes with one gloved hand. He sat alone, the oppressive office lit only by the pale blue light of the holographic form of his contact on the specially encrypted holo com station. The depressing taste of the room's previous owner wasn't helping his mood any. The hologram grimaced and nodded curtly at the unspoken answer, his battle scarred face not covered by an obscuring hood for once.. "Is there really so little time left?" The Inquisitor nodded and looked over the data slate in his hand briefly before setting it back on the desk once more.

"Less than a week," He responded with a groan. The information he had received was irrefutable, and of the bleak nature. He had seen more battle fields over his very long life than could be counted but this was worse, so much worse. To know that something catastrophic was about of happen and knowing that no one was going to be able to stop it in time. Delphios listened to the annoying hum of the ship for a moment, trying to guess how far away he was from where he needed to be.

The ship felt tired to him, tired and ready to break. It too had served for a long time, far beyond what was expected. Perhaps he was simply projecting though. He had been serving the most holy Emperor for damn near three hundred years, and serving well. But what did he have to show for it? He had the next in a series of impossible situations to solve as a reward. Delphios let the thought slip away with a bit of effort, no time for such petty thinking.

"The Astartes have no forces within a week of that system," The holo stated flatly. The Inquisitor ran a hand through his close cut, greying hair while he thought deeply. "Is their nothing that could be sent in time?" He asked, not even expecting an answer that time. He knew for a fact that neither the Navy or the Machanicus had any ships in that sector, now he had received the last bit of bad news in the puzzle.

"Only one," He answered, and Inquisitor Delphios could swear he almost saw a smirk on his old friends crude features. "I've been informed that a medium scale civilian transport vessel is within a day of the system," The Inquisitor's mouth tightened in a scowl. Where was he going with this?

"Are you suggesting I send a few civilians to deal with this?" He asked, his voice brimming with anger and frustration. The man smiled openly now, a small smile but more than The Inquisitor had seen from him in decades. Inquisitors in general tended to be a bit on the grave side, Delphios noticed. He knew for certain that he himself was more than a bit morose.

"The vessel is confirmed to be carrying three non civilian passengers." He continued, ignoring the angered comment from The Inquisitor. "Inquisitor Dante Ignatius is on board," Delphios blanched at the mention of the notorious Inquisitor. He could feel his stomach going sour, knowing where this was going before his contact could go any further.

"I didn't even know he was," Delphios quickly stuttered.

"There?" His contact finished for him.

"Still alive," Delphios corrected and let his scowl drop back into its accustomed frown. "Emperor only knows what he's doing on an unremarkable civilian transport, can't be anything good though." Delphios stroked his chin thoughtfully, letting the hum of the ship speak for him momentarily. "Has he commandeered the ship by Inquisitorial right?"

"No, he is only listed as a passenger," The answer came after a brief pause and the sound of buttons clacking away unseen. "Though a passenger who reserved half the damn ship for "personal living space" it says," Delphios sighed and nodded, that sounded a lot like Ignateus. A man of flamboyant taste and borderline psychotic demeanor, Inquisitor Ignatius.

"Even if we could insure that he didn't solve the problem by blowing up half the damned planet, how can we expect one man to stop what is to come?" He cursed fate for the hundredth time for not delivering him a chapter of Space Marines or a Navy fleet, anything close enough to that Emperor damned nowhere system.

"He has been listed as saving almost a dozen systems single handed," The marine reminded him. Delphios banged his fist on the table suddenly, causing the shaky image of his contact blink out for a moment.

"That is just another reason I detest him!" Delphios shouted, pale face going bright red. "How many Inquisitors can you name who's deeds have become public knowledge? The role of the Inquisition is secrecy and control, not public specter and false heroism! That man has been investigated for charges of compromising Imperial operation confidentiality enough times to merit his own department of court!" The contact didn't bother with an answer, only waited for Delphios to finish. After a few deep breath Delphios gestured for him to continue and swallowed his wrath for a better time.

"He is all we have," he stated simply. Neither spoke for a while, but Delphios knew he had no choice. Ignateus was one of the most effective if not most respectable member of the Inquisition. How he had gotten so close to Delphios's operation area at all without someone finding out about it first was beyond Delphios.

"Send word to the ship," He relented. "They are to redirect to the system under Inquisition order, and get me a private vox line to Iqnatius." This was going to be tricky, Delphios knew. Strictly speaking, no Inquisitor had the right to impede the operations of another without the permission of the high council. Delphios's contact saluted and signed off with a final prayer.

"Emperor protects," The image dissipated, leaving Delphios alone in his dark and stale smelling office. His joints popped painfully as he stood from his chair. He shuffled slowly over to the pricey polished wooden liquor cabinet he had moved into the office to house his personal collection. He tried hard to keep the possible repercussions of what he had done out of his mind. His wrinkled hand skimmed over the stock and stopped at one dust covered bottle of dark amber liquid, laying a finger on it with a nostalgic smile.

The man he had just unleash had been called up for more Inquisitorial investigations than half the traitors they had ever killed. But controversial as his methods were, they had yet to fail. And if worse came to worse and they did fail, blame would rest with Dante. He shook his head roughly, such morbid thoughts were best left to the Ordos Hereticus. He missed the days before he had been privy to such troubling situations.

"The Emperor protects..." Delphios repeated the ancient saying thoughtfully as he poured himself a glass of his favorite year. "Let us hope so," He added, draining the glass and pouring a replacement with practiced ease. As he drank himself to sleep the Inquisitor's head filled with dreams of his rest house on Menzoid Beta and the month he had spent fishing there on the planet's tropical sea. Good times...

-

The room was larger than most he was usually blessed with by his "leader" while they were traveling. To best take advantage of the rare situation, Commissar Nathaniel Tarkus immediately plopped comfortably on the plush and overly decorative bed of the room. it wasn't often he was given time to simply be alone with his thoughts, his job being as filled with mortal threats as it was. Within moments he had shucked off his uncomfortable uniform and boots, sighing in contentment at the feeling of being free of that damnable suit. Not for the first time, Tarkus wondered whose idea it had been to make the standard uniform of the Commissariat so maddeningly stiff and itchy.

Two months without accidentally being shot, stabbed, slashed, blown up, lit on fire or forced to do paper work by his boss. Tarkus shivered a bit at the thought of paper work, that was the worst of all his many dis-pleasures. His mind came back to the present fast enough though, at the realization that the room had its own bar! He almost skipped across the room in his war torn underwear, pushing the mini bar open with a sigh. Something must have put Ignatius in a really good mood to give his flunky so good a living space for such a long trip. Usually Tarkus found himself in the most cramped bunk on the ship, despite the availability of larger rooms. Ignatius found it endlessly amusing to spite his followers like that.

"Must be poisoned," Tarkus muttered, taking a long draft of the most recognizable alcohol he could find. The thought sank in as he savored the taste. It wasn't likely that the Inquisitor would go so far as to kill him, but slipping a laxative into each of the bottles was right up his alley. He decided that he should invite one of the other passengers over for a drink, mostly to test his theory. He re-corked the bottle and grudgingly donned his dusty old uniform, ruing once more leaving his clothing cases unguarded at the port. The Inquisitor had found them before departure and sent them out an airlock with his typical screeching laughter.

The door slid opened with a groan and Tarkus almost yelped as he ran face first into another person. The two bumped off one another and Tarkus realized it was Twerp. The mute girl nodded her apology and tilted her head questioningly. She wanted to know why he was leaving his room, he knew. Over the years sense Ignatius had saved the girl from a Tyranid Hive Tyrant and allowed her to become part of his entourage he'd gotten used to using her body language to translate.

Her name had come the word Ignatius had invoked as she clung to his leg for a week after the battle, refusing to let anyone pry her off until he had her tranked. We never did find out what happened to her parents, probably dead like most of the other civilians of that world after the Tyranids were done with it. he had never bothered to question Ignatius as to why he had allowed her to follow him, wouldn't have gotten an answer anyway. Tarkus had noticed though that no matter how bad his mood swings got, the Inquisitor's wrath never found its way to Twerp. Usually it found Tarkus, and had him locked in a dark room just to hear his screams of panic after a few days.

She was wearing a ship mechanic's jumpsuit today, no telling where she had found it or anything else she was ever wearing for that matter. Twerp seemed to cloth herself exclusively in stolen clothing, but the Inquisitor allowed it so no one ever gave her any flak over it. Loath as he would be to admit it, Tarkus knew the Inquisitor thought of her as his daughter.

"Just looking for a drinking buddy," he explained, shrugging and trying not to let on that he suspected anything was wrong. Much as Tarkus liked her, he knew Twerp was Ignatius's number one agent when it came to pranks. Twerp shook her smooth shaved head and crinkled her head in disgust. None for me, she was saying.

"Ya, I know," He laughed at her reaction. "Not after last time!" Back when Twerp was around fourteen the Commissar had allowed her a cup of amasaac. She found a taste for it and stole the whole bottle, drinking it all in a few gulps. Ignatius hadn't been happy to find her hurling her guts out, curled in a ball on his favorite rug. Tarkus hadn't much enjoyed his next few days after that incident. Suddenly he was snaped out of his revery by an all too familier sound.

"Ah good you're already up!" Tarkus didn't need to turn to know who had spoken. The owner of that reedy and infuriatingly up beat voice had made his life hell for longer than Tarkus cared to think about. Twerp smiled her agreement at Ignatius's comment and Tarkus finaly turned around. Inguisitor Dante Ignatius of the Ordo Malleus was dressed in his accustomed great coat of crimson leather and dark black breeches and shirt, his tall and sickly thin frame made all the stranger by his constant wearing of a wide brimmed red hat. The Inquisitor was smiling as though he had just seen someone he hated beaten to a pulp, which often happened to those he disliked. Even through his coin shaped smoke colored glasses, Tarkus knew his eyes were gleeming with that light that always made his skin crawl.

"Something wrong sir?" Tarkus asked, swallowing a grimace. He was almost a full head shorter than the Inquisitor and had to crane his neck a bit to make eye contact, a fact that he was reminded of often to make him feel short.

"Why does something have to be wrong when I come to chat?" Ignatius asked, his smile widening and looking more and more like a shark's by the minute. Tarkus grummbled out a half answer, hoping that Ignatius would simply continue with whatever he was going to say. This time luck was with him, the Inquisitor simply shook his head a bit and kept talking as though he had never been asked a question.

"Coinsidentaly there is something rather odd going on," Ignatius said, his tone on the thoughtful side. Tarkus steeled himself for the next in a long line of bad news. "The ship has been redirected to a nearby system," Ignatius informed him. Before Tarkus had a chance to ask anything else, Ignatius added. "Under Inquisitorial athority..."

"Did you do it sir?" It was just the sort of thing Ignatius would do, even if he had nothing to do in that system. The inquisitor paused, actualy considering the question for a moment.

"No, I rather think not." He said, his answer less than sure. "I would have had the common curtesy to inform myself before changing the destination of the ship." The statement wouldn't have made sense had anyone else said it, but Tarkus had grown used to such things when it came to his boss. "Also Inquisitor Delphios informed me that he did it..."

"I would have thought that would be the first point you'd make," Tarkus said dumbly. Ignatius only shrugged and went on.

"Said there was something really really bad going on there," The Inquisitor had a habit of using such childish terms when he wasn't paying atention, which left many high ranking officers under the belief that he was doing it to annoy them. And for all Tarkus knew he was doing it specificly for that reason. "Said he'd explain the rest when I got there, wonder if it's good knews?"

"I don't think it..." Tarkus didn't get any further, clutching at his gut and wincing as a deep groan bubbled out. "What the?" He felt like his insides were about to ram out his backside!

"Ah, those would be the laxatives," Ignatius commented idly as Tarkus rushed back into his room and slammed the bathroom door with a stream of curses. "Wouldn't have used triple the safe dose if I'd known we would have important buisness so soon." He and Twerp shared a ruefull head shake and then burst out laughing at the disturbing noises coming clearly through the bathroom door.

"Come now, the Commissar will join us in a few hours," Ignatius told Twerp as they left the area of Tarkus's room a few steps ahead of the stench. "And a few pounds lighter I imagine."


	2. Chapter 2

Ch.1 The Mad, the Sad and the Strange 

"From the memoir of Commissar Tarkus"

_Priest: A good soldier obeys without question. A good officer commands without doubt.  
_

_Inquisitor Ignatius: But a good Inquisitor asks lots of questions and doubts everything.  
_

_The priest was executed after referring to Ignatius as a heretic, not knowing he was in fact an Inquisitor.  
_  
Sheroka hive was the largest of the planet's three hive cities, standing like a lone mountain sprouting out of the grasslands. Layer upon layer of city rose up into the sky, buildings and factories packed so close to each other that roads were almost non existent. But as confining and drab as the Gothic architecture was, the city was bustling with life and healthy movement. Each street and building was filled with merchants, mechanics, and factory workers, each living out their lives amongst the many spired metal and rockrete structure.

Evening was fast approaching when Governor Hector Durmont stepped out of his room onto the wide stone balcony. His city was just beginning to fall into its nightly habits, lights coming up one by one on the streets and buildings. He breathed in deeply of the slightly smoggy air and sighed contentedly. The temperature was just right that fall, allowing him to wander his complex donning only his light sleeping robe. His greying hair had been swept back into a messy pony tail to keep it out of his face as he savored the wind. He had moved his family's traditional homestead to the highest tower of the hive for just that reason, also so that he could enjoy looking down on the peons.

These were the moments he lived for, the ones in which he could just wander his home and relax. Sadly those times were almost completely gone since he had become Governor of Sheroka. Now he spent most of his time listening to one servant after another complain or accuse another of something or another. He frowned a little at the unpleasant thought and light a cigar worth more than most of the hive residents made in a month. The smoke puffed out for a moment before being whisked away by the gentle wind. He fell back into his calm state of mind as he watched the smoke float away.

Durmont's revelry was interrupted suddenly by a small point of light in the darkening sky, orange and moving slowly down the horizon. His eyes traced it for a few seconds, squinting in confusion. He had seen many ships coming and going throughout his life in Sheroka hive, mostly to pick up the many exports of the dozens of factories the city held. But something was strange about this one, he could feel it in his bones.

"Lord Governor," Durmont's secretary excused herself as she came to his side with a data slate in one hand and a stylus in the other. She was peering intently at the slate as she continued. "I have just received word that a civilian transport is sending a shuttle to the cargo hab landing pad with vermilion level clearance!" As she finished her spectacled eyes made their way to the point of light that the Governor was watching so intently.

"Vermilion level hu?" He repeated absent mindedly, frowning at the increasingly faster moving light. Then all at once what she had said hit him. "Vermilion!" He shouted, forgetting the ship instantly. As far as he knew Vermilion was the highest level in the whole of the Imperium, which he had never even seen before. It was the kind of thing reserved for threats the likes of which he couldn't even imagine.

"Yes sir," She said, all business. "And I think that ship is about to crash," She added, looking past her lord and flinching. Durmont didn't have time to turn around before a crack split the air and the speck of light smashed into the ground a few miles from the edge of his city. Even as high up as he was, Durmont could hear the grinding of the ship as it slid across the ground and finally halted with a rumble.

"Emperor's breath, I think someone just crashed a ship into my city!" He gasped, pulling his robes closed and making his way back inside as fast as he could.

"The shuttle crashed outside the hive sir," His secretary corrected as she matched his pace to remain beside him. "And it has been confirmed to be the Vermilion level shuttle," She stated after looking back at her slate.

"Get over there and see what's going on!" He rasped at her, pulling on his pants with a grunt. His face had become shinny with cold sweat, his nervous nature betraying him once more. The idea of someone so important enough to merit that kind of clearance dying on his doorstep didn't sit well in the Governor's stomach. He hurriedly pulled on his dress boots, not bothering to find any stockings. Of course this would happen when he was virtually nude. Before his secretary disappeared out his door he added, "And find me good shirt!" She didn't answer, damn. And things had been going so well, he thought ruefully.

-

Dana Printes watched the city moving beneath her through the shaded window of the Governor's personal transport. The old transport flyer bumped and jostled annoyingly as the pilot brought her over the city's outer wall. The thing had to be at least five hundred years old, a family heirloom as Durmont put it. She had given up trying to read her data slate while in the ship, too bumpy for her to even make out the words. So she waited, her fingers compulsively tapping on the side of the drab brown tunic she wore with her tan dress bottom.

"We're approaching the crash sight ma'am," The pilot shouted over the roar of the barely functioning engine. Dana nodded, relieved to be done with the infernal machine for the time being. Every time the Governor needed her to do something involving his "Family heirloom" she found herself vomiting within a few minutes. And this time didn't look to be going any better, she thought as her stomach grumbled in protest.

"Just get us down there!" She screamed as the ship hit the ground with a bump and the engine began to die down. Dana rushed out of the blocky looking transport and wobbled over to the edge of the crater the shuttle had left as it landed. No one could possibly have survived that, she knew as soon as she looked at the crumpled and broken metal shape dug half way into the ground. But she had her duties, and by the Emperor she would find out what was going one.

Dana prepared to navigate her way down with a sigh. For a man with almost three hundred servants, Durmont sure did like to send her on his errands. Her shoes slipped off the second she attempted to slide down the trench, delivering her in a heap to the bottom of the hole with a screech of surprise. The rolling motion coupled with the ride on the bouncy transport had her stomach heaving by the time she picked herself up. Before she even had time to touch the side of the scorched and dented vessel a grinding sound came from higher up the ship.

Dana had enough time to dive out of the way and squawk in surprise as a section of the ship's wall fell to the ground where she had been standing only a split second before. She spat out the mouth full of dirt she had acquired from the dodge and sat up to watch as a small walking ramp lowered from the dark square that had opened in the ship. By that time she had stopped bothering to wonder what the hell was going on. The ramp touched the ground with a crunch of glass and plastic, reminding Dana that she had dropped her data slate in the process of avoiding the chunk of metal wall. Too late now, she groaned as the little device was crushed into the mud.

A man stepped out onto the ramp with as much dignity as could be mustered by someone who had just been through a planetary crash landing. His black and red uniform was torn on one sleeve and the whole of it seemed on the verge of giving out. His eyes darted around woozily as he leaned onto the hand rail of the ramp. Dana noticed that other than a bleeding nose and a bruised cheek the dark haired man was quite handsome. The man finally took notice of the woman sitting in the mud below him and his mouth opened shakily to greet her.

Whatever he had been about to say was turned instead into a scream as a long leg ending in a large boot shot out of the exit and kicked the man in the rear hard enough to send him rolling down the ramp with a string of colorful curses. He came to rest with a moan at the bottom of the ramp, still cursing as he rose to his feet. Dana would have laughed at the spectacle were it not for her stomach. The man who had kicked the first came out next, and for a moment Dana didn't even know what to think.

The man was tall, really tall. And thin, really thin. His face was sharp and severe looking, but broken by a smile the likes of which she had never seen before. Without dedicating a moment of thought to the man he had kicked and possible injured the tall man lept over the railing with none of the wooziness his counterpart had shown and landed like a cat next to Dana. She yelped in surprise and clutched her roiling belly. The stranger smiled like a wolf at her from under his absurdly large brimmed hat, his eyes hidden behind a pair of tinted black glasses.

"I told him I could pilot a shuttle!" The man yelled with glee that terrified the simple secretary. The man pointed over his shoulder at the still recovering man on the ramp's bottom. "He told me I didn't have the training, showed him hu?" Dana didn't answer, too dumbfounded by what she was seeing. Finally the tall man seemed to notice her plight and offered her a gloved hand in greetings. "The name is Dante Ignatius!" He pumped her hand like a piston and smiled all the wider. The movement of the handshake was the last straw.

"Dana," She returned the greeting and threw up on his boots. Ignatius raised a brow in surprise and stepped away from the woman as she continued to vomit all over the place.

"What strange greetings they have on this planet," He mused, then shoved a finger down his throat casually to join her in the enthusiastic welcoming. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ch.2 Nothing Ventured 

"From the memoir of Commissar Tarkus"

_Sometimes the only way to get something is to bet far more than it is worth... _

Like most of the higher ranking members of the government Tarkus had met, the Governor of this hive was fat. It was like no one had bothered to let the leaders know that sitting on their asses all day led to a pot belly. Or maybe they just didn't care, he knew he wouldn't if he had been that wealthy. But even for a soft, rich and pampered man, showing up half naked and covered with sweat was a bit much. Tarkus put on his pleasant with more than a little effort and stepped forward to shake the meaty paw of the Governor.

"An unprecedented honor so receive such an important member of his holy grace's most, erm, holy Inquisition sir!" Tarkus could tell the fat man was out of his element, scrabbling for any praise he could stack on to ensure his loyalty was unquestioned. The Governor was beginning to stink from the sweat, his smile straining more than Tarkus's. He nodded back his greeting and stepped back into place behind the Ignatius's right side, glad to be out of the center of attention after even just a moment. "I can assure you that you'll find none more Emperor loving than the citizens of Sheroka Hive!" The Governor went on, nodding the whole time. "In fact," He was interrupted suddenly as Ignatius raised a hand in front of the Governor's mouth and hushed him like a talkative child.

"I don't like you," Ignatius said matter of factly, looking around the ornately decorated meeting hall with what Tarkus guessed was disinterest from under his hat. The Governor paled noticeably at the statement but remained silent, he learned fast at least. "You're fat and cowardly and have horrible taste in furniture," Ignatius complained, running his finger down the side of the Governor's gaudy stone desk. Tarkus suppressed a smirk at the last comment, it was true he noticed with a masked eyeing of the fur rugs and gold trimmed paintings. "And as for your fear of me just killing everyone I don't find to be Emperor loving enough, give it a rest. As fun as the idea sounds I am not going to go on a killing spree, that sort of thing is best left to the Ordo Malleus anyway" The assurance did little to calm the man, instead he grew paler and more nervous than before. "I'm hungry..." The Inquisitor added, looking around the room like he had no idea what he was saying before.

"I, uh, we'll just, that is," The Governor was about to had a heart attack either from sheer terror or confusion. Suddenly another voice broke in from the other side of the overly long room.

"We'll have some refreshments brought in of course, Lord Inquisitor." Tarkus turned and found the vomiting little woman from the crash sight standing before them, though in a fresh set of robes. She looked much more in control now than she had when they had been brought into the city, he gathered from her posture and professional smile. The Inquisitor turned his back on the relieved Governor, his customary and off putting smile returning

.  
"Ah miss Printes, how good to see you again!" Ignatius responded, bringing a finger to his mouth almost before Tarkus could pull it out and stop him from vomiting. Ignatius looked down at Tarkus and frowned in confusion.  
"That isn't necessary, sir," Tarkus informed him, hoping he wouldn't catch any flack for his actions. Dana gave him an  
appreciative look before continuing.

"If you would like my lord," She was doing much better than her Governor, none of the pointless honoraries or stuttering. And none of the body odor, Tarkus mentally complimented the governor for at least having good taste in his choice of servants. "If you'd care to, we can discuss the business of your visit to Sheroka after a meal." She sounded genuinely pleasant, Tarkus could spot a false tone from a mile away. It came from too much time spent in offices with bureaucrats, more often than not filling out paper work due to the mishaps of his Boss. The Inquisitor started to nod but stopped short, frowning in concentration.

"No, pleasing as the thought of good food may be I will require the use of an astropath and a secure room immediately." Tarkus blinked in surprise, a rare moment of near clarity on the part of his leader. The tone he had taken brooked no argument, the kind of tone he used just before violence usually ensued. All three turned to the Governor expectantly as silence reclaimed the room. The fat man blinked several times and looked at the papers on his desk futilely before giving Dana a pleading look.

"I will handle the arrangements my lord," She almost kept the rolling of her eyes hidden but Tarkus saw it and suppressed another smirk at the fat man's expense. The Governor also tried to play the hiding game, but everyone in the room saw his relief to be done with the real work. The three left the room with bows from Dana and Tarkus and a strange hand gesture from Ignatius. After the door had closed they stopped and Ignatius let loose one of his ear torturing cackles, patting Dana and Tarkus on their shoulders hard enough to make both wince.

"That man has no idea how to work under stress," He laughed, wiping an imaginary tear from under his spectacles. Dana joined modestly in the laugh and Tarkus smiles wanly in order to fit in. "I think when this is done I'll have him killed," He was still laughing, but Dana's mirth faded fast. She sent Tarkus a silent question and in return he shrugged, no telling if Ignatius was joking or not. She shuffled her feet for a few moments longer as Ignatius continued to giggle, looking more weirded out by the second.

"Perhaps we should locate that room now?" Tarkus showed mercy and asked his boss. Ignatius cut off his laugh and fell back into a business tone.

"Yes well, off we go." Dana nodded and gestured for the two to follow her. Tarkus watched Ignatius closely as they marched on behind Dana, trying to guess what was going on in his head. A laughable effort he knew, but something strange was going on if Ignatius was having serious thoughts. They were both brought from their thoughts as Dana began to speak once more.

"Sheroka Hive is over three hundred years old," Dana informed them, pointing out one of the hallway's many windows to the sprawling labyrinth of buildings as they walked on. Tarku nodded and tried to look interested for her sake, Ignatius simply picked lint off the brim of his hat and remained thankfully silent. "And of the three Hives on Canuse, Sheroka is not only the largest but the most profitable."

"You have been tasked as a tour guide by Durmont before, haven't you?" Ignatius asked, forgetting his hat for a moment. Dana blushed in embarrassment, most likely only then realising she had begun to showcase the Hive like they were a couple of rich tourists.

"My apologies Lord Inquisitor," She bristled and sped her pace a bit. He had hurt her feelings, Tarkus almost felt bad for the innocent young woman. Almost, but hurting some secretary's feeling was pretty low on Ignatius's list of social blunders. Tarkus opened his mouth to apologize but was cut short when Dana suddenly asked.

"Weren't their three of you when you landed?" She looked troubled, like she had just remembered she had left something behind important in her house. Tarkus and Ignatius shared a shrug and looked back to her.

"Twerp goes on her own quite often," He reassured her, or tried before Ignatius added.

"She's probably just robbing one of the servants of his clothing, also his money and any other valuables," Dana waited, wide eyed in shock or disbelief. "She might also kill him," He added after a thoughtful pause and a chin stroke.

"Oh dear," Was all she could manage in response.

-

(Warning the following segment may contain the beginnings of a plot)

The two hooded figures walked down the ancient corridors silently, disturbing dust that had not been moved in millenia. Both saw clearly in the pitch black of the polished stone corridor, gifted with more power than most had the capacity to imagine. The walls of the structure were covered from the floor to the distant ceiling in small etched symbols which no sane human could read. They walked with the pace of those set on a course that would be seen through to the end no matter what. The end of the corridor was preceded by the dim arrival of a green glow, lining the entrance to the final room.

The hall terminated into a cavern so large the ceiling was lost into the distance. They stepped in without hesitation, not bothered or cowed by the size of the room in the least. A few feet into the room a three story tall structure sat, atop it the source of the green glow. They stopped at the foot of the thing and looked up at the large crystal sitting atop the pyramidal piece of technology. For time immemorial the chamber had remained unchanging, but now the first bit of what was to come had arrived. Neither spoke for a while, both savoring the moment.

"When did it activate?" The first asked without moving its flesh and blood mouth. The second black clad whispered its response mentally too, though in the silky voice of what was meant to be the perfect woman.

"An hour ago, as you already knew." He nodded his covered head and placed a hand solemnly against the machine. The woman stood a few steps away, letting him have his moment. He ran his fingers down the ridged surface and felt every small cable and circuit thrumming beneath the shell, like the heartbeat of a child in the womb. For such a long time he had waited to feel that heart beating. "Will everything be ready in time?" She asked, drawing near to him once more.

"You doubt me?" There was an edge to his voice as he turned on her.

"Of course," She giggled, like there was no other way it could be. And he knew that in fact there wasn't, for trust was for the weak. He let the anger go and went back to looking at the wonder. "It is the beginning of the end for the vermin that have infected this galaxy." She told him in the same tone he had used when he had found and began training her.

"It is indeed," He agreed, snapping his fingers with supernatural volume. In response to the snap a thousand gigantic stage lights activated row after row on the distant ceiling. Raising his hands to the lights the man began to laugh in triumph, a laugh filled with madness and power. The woman screeched her unnatural joy along with him, dancing joyously amongst the hundreds of thousands of monoliths now revealed in the light behind the first. One after another of the structures also began to glow with the unnatural green light of the first.

++I know the second part is kind of short, but I wanted to end the chapter on a mysterious note without giving too much away++


	4. Chapter 4

Ch.3 Complicated Situation 

"From the Commisarriat office of Ber'allis"

_Nathaniel Darrin Tarkus was dishonorably discharged from the order of the Commisarriat after being found guilty of cowardice on the field of battle at Ber'allis Secundus. With the death of the acting commander of the regiment Tarkus was given command with the first order that of a frontal assault (as a diversion while the base was attacked from underground) on the most heavily fortified Ork fortress of the system. Seeing the order as a death sentence on the whole regiment, Tarkus refused the order and had his men hold the line. While this action prevented the total lose of the planet after the failed assault, Tarkus was stripped of his title and sentenced to death. We still have no idea why the Inquisitor had him freed, or why he had him reinstated as a Commissar, hell we don't even know what he was doing in that system in the first place...  
_  
Tarkus weaved his way through the crowded streets with the ease of one born on a hive world, trying not to feel out of place in the worn out old uniform. The night sky was almost drowned out by the numerous street lights and building windows, turning the night into more of a twilight. The place was abustle with the kind of night life one only found on a hive, the smell of good food and gambling billowing out of the drinking houses along with those who had drank a bit much. He enjoyed the atmosphere of the place, savoring the peace and happiness while it lasted. Things such as that never lasted when his boss was called in.

Tarkus stopped at one of the street vendors long enough to buy a strange smelling cup of what he hoped was alcohol before going on his way, not that he had a particular one in mind. The Inquisitor had been more than a little troubled by the time he had slammed the door shut on Tarkus and Dana, muttering something about needing privacy and not liking the way Tarkus's clothing smelled. He had taken that as permission to wander, not for the first time finding himself without orders while the boss's mind was elsewhere. He sipped his drink and tried his best not to let his mind return to the nervous state it had been in since they had been given word of the new course set on the ship.

He wasn't sure if the feeling in his stomach was just dread or maybe left over pain from the hasty evacuation of his bowls on the ship, but neither thought pleased him overly much. Something bad was going on in Sheroka Hive, he could feel it in his laxative tortured guts. Tarkus peered up at the tallest spire of the Hive, wondering nervously if his Boss had found out anything useful from Delphios. Or if he'd even have the presence of mind to remember if he had.

The idle conjecture was interrupted painfully as a fist pounded into Tarkus's kidney painfully, driving the breath from the Commissar in a whooping gasp. Though odd and painful, the greeting had become as familiar to him as the girl from whom it had come. Still clutching his inflamed side, Tarkus turned and smiled his thanks at Twerp for the kind hello. She silently laughed at his obvious discomfort and patted his back like a mother comforting a baby. He jokingly pushed her away and waited for his kidney to hurt a bit less before going on.

She was clad in a blue dress bottom and light green blouse now, the kind Durmont's house staff wore. She had been successful in her hunt it seamed, he thought with a smirk. To some one her age she would probably been quite pretty, if they could get pasted the shaved head and silence. Her icy blue eyes always looked wide and curios, fitting well with her personality. Maybe someday if she wasn't killed on one of Ignatius's missions she'd find a nice boy and settle down, Tarkus found himself wanting that for her. She deserved a nice life after what she'd been through.

"Anything from Ignatius?" He asked, trying to keep the doom out of his voice. Twerp shook her head pleasantly and walked on, forcing him to follow to her skipping pace. He sighed and shook his head to clear it. "Why are you out here then?" She raised an eye brow and pointed back at him, a tilted smile forming. Why are you? She was asking. He conceded the point with an upraised hand and chuckled. Neither of them should really be so far away with such seemingly important business on the horizon. They walked on in friendly silence, one mute and the other content to remain silent when he got the chance.

They had only gotten a few streets down when Twerp stopped suddenly, Tarkus bumping into her in surprise. She turned to him with a deep frown and began looking around frantically. He knew better than to second guess the girl's keen instincts for trouble, which had saved his hide more than once. Tarkus followed suit, his eyes picking out every detail of the crowd of people milling about around them.

"What is it?" He asked in a whisper, hand falling comfortingly over the holster clip of his battered old hand flammer. The weapon had been a gift from an Adapta Sororitas in thanks for his service against the Tyranids on Twerp's home world. Along with his bolt pistol the weapon had seen more than a fair share of battle in the few years he had owned it.

Twerp shook her head vigorously, reaching into one of the pockets of her dress and producing a small civilian issue las pistol. She didn't know what was going on she was saying, but it was about to get bad. Tarkus had no idea where she had found a weapon but he was glad she had, especially if things were about to go south. No sooner had he finished the thought than an orange light flared behind him and a wave of heat covered his back. Before he had a chance to turn the explosion lifted him from his feet in an ear shattering boom and deposited him face first into one of the stone walls of a building.

Twerp was on her feet first, eyes wild with surprise and anger. Tarkus pulled himself up and saw the smoking ruins of the building he had been standing near belching up flames and chunks of blackened rockrete. All around civilians ran in terror and screamed almost high enough to out do the inferno raging before them. Tarkus drew his hand flamer and bolt pistol in a single well practiced movement, not even sure where to aim in the hectic fray of bodies. A las shot whizzed by his head suddenly, blasting a hole in the wall by his head. Before he had a chance to return fire at the unseen attacker Twerp popped off a shot, aiming down her extended arm like an expert duelist.

"Come out Emperor damn you!" Tarkus bellowed, lungs trained by years in the schools of the Commissariat. He charged head long down the street in the direction the shot had come from, relieved that most of the civilians had finally cleared the area. As he ran he caught sight of his targets, running full speed into on of the side alleys. There were three of them, all cloaked and hooded in black and running faster than a Gretchin from a nob. He dashed into the alley after them, outpaced by both the Assailants and Twerp. She was running silently, arm held steady as she ran and pouring a salvo of wild fire at the three as she went.

"In the name of," Tarkus wheezed as he doggedly chased after them, but didn't have the wind to finish. Damn they were fast, and Twerp was putting him to shame too. They were too fast for him, he realised with shame. He skidded to a halt and re-holstered his hand flamer, calling out to Twerp. "Ground!" Twerp fell flat on the ground in mid step, like she had expected the command the whole time. With her out of the way Tarkus squinted down the barrel of his old bolt pistol, tracing the rapidly distancing form of the closest attacker.

The gun barked once, the muzzle flash blinding Tarkus for a split second. At first he had thought his shot a miss, not hearing a scream. But looking down the now deserted alley he found the prone form one of the cloaked figures on the cold ground. Twerp caught up with him as he ran to the body, eyes darting into each of the shadows and crevices as they went. Tarkus flipped the downward facing body with his boot and grimaced. Bolt pistols had a nasty habit of exploding the head when it was hit, leaving little by which to identify the body. He crouched low to inspect the mess, reaching a hand into the dead man's pocket for evidence but coming up empty.

"Friend of yours?" Tarkus yelped, actually yelped at the closeness of the voice. He whirled around and met the cackling face of his Boss, who was infinitely pleased at having scared him. He shouldn't have been surprised really, Ignatius had popped up in unexpected places for as long as their had been an Ignatius around. And he could be very, very quite when he wanted to be.

"This unlucky bastard just blew up that whole building," Tarkus muttered, kicking the ruined corpse in the chest to emphasize his point. Jarring something loose with his kick Tarkus was too late to avoid the arterial spray that shot out of the headless stump and splattered his shirt and pants. His face turned beat red, matching the blood with his unspoken anger. Twerp and Ignatius laughed for close to half an hour before either could muster the control to stop.

"Oh yes," The Inquisitor finally spoke with a laughter induced pant. "It would seem the Hive is under attack." He said it as though he were mentioning something trivial, and as far as Ignatius was concerned it probably was.

"Of course it is," Tarkus groaned, wiping a piece of brain off his shirt and flicking it away. "Of course..."

-

Dana screamed in terror as the damnable shuttle rushed for the ground, fire covering both windows of the back compartment. The pilot had only enough time to shout in confusion before the missile or whatever it was rocketed into the side of the transport, knocking Dana out of her seat and bashing her head against the window. The ground was becoming closer and closer even as it spun in the window, while Dana pin balled sickeningly back and forth from the transports wild movement.

She had just wanted to get a damn file for Durmont! Just go to the archives quickly and get me the paper, he had said. Shouldn't take more than an hour! She made a resolution as she was rag dolled in the small space, if she survived she was quiting the Governor's service.

Blindly Dana grasped for something as she was tossed once more, and her hand clasped frantically on the harness she wished she had been wearing when the damn missile hit! blood was running down her face from the impact of her window headbutt as she wrenched herself back into the seat harness and snapped the buckle before she lost her grip. Before she had a chance to sigh the transport finally hit the ground, or more accurately the side of a building then the ground. She never felt it, her mind going dark as her head whip lashed in the harness...

The first thing she noticed when she woke was that she was upside down. The second was that her stomach was apparently not empty, she heaved onto the ceiling pathetically waving her arms to keep them away from the stream. With that finished she lolled her head around to get a better view. The transport was on fire, or something else was filling it with smoke. Her eyes squeezed shut as she fiddled with the buckle that kept her on what was now the ceiling. With a click and another scream the mechanism released and she fell onto her head, thankfully missing the puddle of vomit.

"What's going on?" She cried, tears running down her smoke stained cheeks as she scrabbled to the shattered window of the transport. None of it made sense, who would shoot down a government transport? Her body was aching in ways she had never believed possible, especially her head and neck. Trying her best to ignore the shards of glass that scraped her as she went, Dana pulled herself out of the twisted wreck of the transport and lay on the cold ground for a moment.

Nothing had ever felt as good in her life as that cold rock did on her cheek, so soothing after the pain and heat of the crash. In all her life of documents and micromanagement, this was the first instance of real pain she had ever felt. And if she could at all help it, the last. Mustering her strength Dana lifted her head and glanced back at the transport, squinting at the smoke that poured from it. The pilot's section of the shuttle was almost completely gone, pounded into oblivion by whatever had hit them. No hope for another survivor, not with that wreck.

"Help," She croaked, her throat parched and rasping painfully. But there was no one around, an almost impossible occurrence in a hive city. She had crashed into the square between four towering buildings, leaving a deep rivet in the wall of the one she had hit before coming to rest near the center. And on one could be seen, every road connecting to the square was empty and every window dark. But there was sound, she picked it up bit by bit as she drug herself slowly and painfully away from the flaming ruin. It was a sound she had heard, but only rarely and almost always on a holo story or news showing, the piercing snap of las fire.

Her mind was reeling, too much to process at once. Who shot her down? Who was shooting? Where was everyone? She pressed her hands gently against her temples and sobbed, too sore to move but afraid to remain in the open. Her leg was broken, that much she could tell for sure. Anything else was just guess work, as her whole body was aching furiously. The rapid click clack of booted feet from one of the roads brought her head up.

Should she call out and risk being shot, or wait and see who it was and risk not being able to call out in time? The decision was made for her as a figure bolted out of the night's darkness and skidded to a stop, standing right over ever it was he was tall, she thought woozily as her mind and body began to betray her. The man crouched down and scooped her up as though she were weightless.

"Surprises abound miss Printes!" Ignatius greeted her cheerily as he stood. Before he could say anything more Tarkus and Twerp ran around the corner he had come from, a hail of las fire following them closely. "Ah yes, we were running weren't we?" He asked as the two ran past him without a moment hesitation. He giggled with glee as he ran to catch up, the path virtually lit by las fire for them. "Will you be," He started to ask, but noticing that Dana had already fainted simply shrugged and kept up the run. "Shhh!" He screamed scoldingly at the dozens of cloaked attackers chasing them. "She's sleeping!" His cackle echoed for miles as they ran on. 


	5. Chapter 5

Ch.4 Impressive

"From the memoir of Commissar Tarkus"

_Never was the most agile man in the Imperium, but I got by. It helps when you're aloud to shoot anyone who insults you._

Tarkus would have cursed, if he'd had enough wind left in him by that point. Ignatius and Twerp had long since out run him, leaving his view behind one of the millions of sharp turns of the damnable Hive. They never had been much for the no man left behind thing anyway, but they could have at least shown the common courtesy of telling him where the hell they were going. It really was sad that he was outrun by a teen and a loony carrying another person.

He rounded another corner managing not to tip over as he skidded by, followed closely by at least twenty of the cloaked idiots. He stopped with a squeal of his boots as a dozen las rifles swung in his direction. The men were just as confused looking as he was, looking to each other for a suggestion at to whether or not to shoot. Tarkus noticed they were wearing the same blue and green as the house guards of Durmont's palace, local guardsmen he surmised.

It made sense really, he knew. Almost all Hive cities employed a regiment of home guardsmen to maintain order.

"Don't shoot!" He yelped as they prepared to riddle him with holes.

Before they had a chance to argue the first of the cloaked ones came around the corner blindly, smashing Tarkus into the ground as the others came around. "Now shoot!" He corrected, pumping a quick shot into the chest of the man on top of him. The Guardsmen seamed beyond arguing by that point, and opened fire on the surprised cloaks. They didn't even have a chance to return fire, ripped to shreds by the panicked rapid fire of the guardsmen. Tarkus tucked his head under his arm, trying to ignore the flecks of blood and other bodily fluids that covered him as the attackers were butchered by las fire.

"Wh, who are you?" One of the jittery guards stammered as Tarkus stood and futilely tried to wipe off his dirty and torn suit. He took a moment to let the drama build, an old habit from watching too many holo dramas he guessed. The sound of las fire from somewhere brought him out of it though, no time for that now.

"Commissar Tarkus," He tried to sound official but only came across as out of breath and in need of a nap. They didn't seem to mind though, looking relieved just to have someone with experience with them now. He found the one that looked the most like he wasn't about to drop his gun and make a run for the nearest safe place. "What in the Warp is going on here?" He asked, reloading his bolt pistol as he spoke. The man saluted like a kid just out of boot camp and stammered nervously.

"Cultists sir!" He almost cried, Tarkus sighed and gestured for him to go on. "We had no idea it was coming, who'd have thought their were chaos worshipers in Sheroka?" They had not only never seen combat before, but he could tell that this was probably the first time any of them had fired a weapon outside of a training complex. Tarkus tried not to let his failing hope bleed into his voice.

"Enough of that soldier!" He barked, causing most of them hop back in fright. They were damn near the worst group of "gaurdsmen" he had ever seen. But if worst came to worse, they might provide a distraction while he got the frak out of there. Over his time with Ignatius he had learned that discretion was almost always the better part of valor, and it had saved his hide many times. First things first he decided, he needed to get back to Ignatius and Twerp. Even if only because they were better support than the these idiots. "Are there any other guardsmen in the area?" His Commissar voice working wonders at keeping the man from just breaking down and sobbing.

"Yes sir, the barracks are a few blocks over," He spoke as though the speed of the statement was the most important thing. "We were on our way back from the evening patrol when," He silenced the man with an upraised hand and scratched his chin thoughtfully.

While logic could never be applied to deciding the best place to look for his boss, it did sound like the safest bet at the moment. If he tried to get there alone there was a chance the other guardsmen might shoot him before had a chance to explain himself, but if he brought these rejects along they might well get him killed before he ever got that far. In the end his pity won out, he rubbed his eyes tiredly and spoke.

"All right, follow me and stay quite." They almost cheered, but settled for nodding vigorously instead. They fell into a text book style parade march behind him as he tried his best to remain stealthy. He swallowed his annoyance and kept up his vigil, peeking his head around each corner they crossed and half expecting to have it removed by a cultist's las rifle. Why he wondered, did he always end up in the middle of these sort of situations when there was no one to help him? After a few minutes of slow progress Tarkus felt a finger tap his shoulder hesitantly. He turned and raised a questioning brow at the guard who had stopped him.

"I'm uh, sorry sir but..." Tarkus waited, pretty sure he knew where this was going. "The barracks are that way," He pointed back the way they had already traveled a seven blocks away from. The twitching of an eye was all that made its way to his body of the rage inside. Instead of screaming or asking why they hadn't told him that before he simply huffed and turned back the way they had come.

"Ya," He sighed. "Of course it is,"

Dana woke with a sharp cry of pain as she was dumped out of Ignatius's hands and back onto the cold ground. They were still outside, hidden behind some kind of food stall. Ignatius turned back away from her without a word and joined Twerp, who was furiously pumping off shots with her little las pistol from behind the cover of the stall. Return fire whizzed at them from the windows of several of the buildings across the street from the cart and many more from down the street itself.

"Sorry to ask," Ignatius called without looking back at her, producing a strange looking weapon from under his coat and taking aim. "But you wouldn't be trained in the use of fire arms would you?" Dana frowned, not bothering to answer. "Worth a shot," Ignatius admitted and pulled the trigger. Dana was blinded by the bright blue light that snapped out of the Inquisitor's gun, blowing one of the attackers to hell along with a large chunk of the wall behind him. The other attackers paused briefly in surprise before opening up again, reducing the bottles of food on the cart to mush and ash.

"What the hell is going on?" Dana was pretty sure he wouldn't hear her over the fray but he answered anyway.

"Chaos cult," He explained like he was telling her how to work a data slate. "Stirring up trouble, not the real problem though." Before he could get any further a well placed las shot removed his hat, leaving his brown hair a few inches shorter at the top. He growled in annoyance and replaced the still smoking hat on his head, scowling at the attackers like a child who'd been scolded. He looked even stranger than before, as the hat now had a hole the size of a man's fist through the top. "Trying to kill me is one thing, but ruining a perfectly good hat is just rude!"

"I don't think that's," Dana stammered but stopped as the Inquisitor opened his coat. "Oh my..." She whispered, seeing the rows of grenades that lined the inside of the man's coat from waist to leg. Seeing her amazement the Inquisitor shrugged and explained.

"For bird hunting," He said as five were plucked from his coat. She wasn't even sure if that was a metaphor or not, not likely she decided. The grenades were fixed together in a way she had never seen, a small rope hanging from the cluster. The Inquisitor began pulling the pins quickly, not removing any of the grenades from the group, having all of them off within a couple of seconds he stood from cover. Amazingly none of the attackers managed to hit the man as he swung the grenades over his head rapidly, tossing the pile into the largest group of the cloaks with a grunt. "Duck," He suggested casually as he and Twerp fell to their knees and plugged their ears tightly. The shooting continued for a split second as Dana squeezed her eyes shut and plugged her ears along with the other two.

She heard the explosion through her fingers and felt a wave of heat wash over her, pushing the stall into her painfully. The shooting stopped, replaced by the crackling of fire and a distant sound of groaning. Ignatius was up first, placing what she guessed correctly to be a plasma pistol back into his coat carefully and inspecting his work. The whole of the street was burnt black, scattered pieces of rock and body parts driven into the walls around were the grenades had gone off. Even the window perched cloaks had re-thought the intelligence of attacking the mad Inquisitor, vanishing without another shot.

"I never did get that meal," The Inquisitor speculated, idly patting out a fire that the explosion had set on his shoulder. Dana giggled weakly and pulled her robe up painfully to finally see the damage. She gasped at the little nub of bone sticking sickly out of her lower leg, had she anything left in her she would most likely puked again. The Inquisitor looked at her leg from behind his glasses and spat to the side. "Gross," Was all he added before going back to looking around for more enemies. Satisfied after a moment of poking around, the Inquisitor started off with gusto.

Twerp bent over Dana and pulled the robe back down, her face conveying concern as clearly as if she had spoken. Dana swooned in pain as the girl lifted her into an awkward over the shoulder carry. Had she not been frantic from pain she would have complimented the bird like girl on being able to lift her at all. As Twerp set off after the Inquisitor, Dana shakily called out.

"Where are we going?" Dana moaned through the horrid pain in her leg. Ears sharp as ever, the Inquisitor stopped his march long enough to respond.

"Back to the Governor's palace!" Dana got the feeling he thought she already knew that. "We'll need help blowing up the Hive after all." He was right after all, one man couldn't...

"Wait what!" She screeched, trying to catch his eyes. His only further response was more of that mind numbing cackle.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 5 The enemy of my enemy is my enemy

_"From Report #13: Ingatius on Banlorok"_

_One of the earliest recorded mentionings of Inquisitor Dante Ignatius was over his actions on the planet Banlorok, in the Segmentum Pacificus. The planet was under siege by a fleet of Eldar pirates, cut off from most support by a warp storm in the system. Outnumbered by more than three to one by the Eldar forces, Ignatius ordered his ship to collide with the enemy flagship. Both crews were uterly destroyed in the collision, the remnants of the ships falling to the surface of the planet some days later. Ignatius was found wandering the wilderness of the planet a few months later, having no idea how he survived (or at least not telling anyone how.) A long list of strange events and unexplained survivals has since been accrued by Ignatius over the course of his life._

The night was late, but brighter than most planets at night due to the many lights of the city. Not that lights were of importance or use to the two, who could see in both absolute darkness and glaring light with ease. They listened to the sounds of battle as it swept over the Hive, pockets of fighting shifting and going silent as new ones formed. It was utter chaos the two knew, with both humor and disdain. But they hadn't come for that, they had come to see the newly arrived Imperial servants.

They watched them run from the balchony of the many spired building, enjoying the spectacle. The woman tittered at the sight of the lanky Inquisitor dashing ahead, not quite leaving the girl behind as she carried the broken one. The man kept his own council, not seeing a reason to display his thoughts. The cultists wouldn't catch up to them, he knew it long before they fell behind and finally lost them all together. As the Inquisitor left the view of the balchony the hooded man frowned in thought.

"Let us test him," He spoke mentaly, nodding to his counterpart. The woman smiled under her cowl, like she had been waiting for this moment her whole life. "Do not draw too much atention from the Governor, dear." He added the title with a sneer, enjoying the flicker of anger that passed through her before she was back to her manic self. Without any noticable effort the two vanished, re-apearing on another balchony closer to the Inquisitor.

"May I use one of our pets?" She asked innocently, almost drawing a smile from him. Pets indeed, he thought with a nod. She squeeled in joy as the Inquisitor rounded yet another corner unknowing of the watchers. This would be worth the risk of drawing unwanted atention, he thought of the coming sight with a small grin.

"Go," He ordered, not needing to look to know she was gone. He would wait and see how things went, and alter his plan if the need arose. Unlikely as that was...

---

Tarkus muttered another curse, slamming another cell into his bolt pistol. The remaining gaurdsmen crouched next to him behind the rapidly shrinking cover of the over turned stone pillar. They had been so close, so damn close to the safety of the barraks! Seven of the gaurds had been blasted in the few minutes they had been pinned down, each death instilling the survivors with a little more terror. Blinking another chip of rockrete out of his eyes, Tarkus held his bolt pistol over the pillar and sprayed a few shots across the sqaure randomly.

There was no way they could get aross the square with so many of the damned traitors sniping from the far building. The others were on the verge of making a run for it, and Tarkus knew that if they did it would not only be a death ticket for them but most likely for him too. For the hundredth time that night he damned his Boss for leaving him with those morons. As the thought crossed his mind another of the gaurds went down, clutching futily at the hoel that had apeared in his throat.

"For the love of the Emperor, keep your fraking heads down!" Tarkus bellowed over the las fire, pulling down one of the other gaurds just before a las shot wizzed past the place he had occupied. If they could only reach the barraks! "Where is your vox officer?" Tarkus asked the leader of the patrol, forcing the frantic gaurd to meet his eyes while the others layed ill aimed and sporadic cover fire.

"We use personal vox beads sir," The Officer answered after a moment of confusion. Tarkus grabbed him by the collar, forcing a terrified yelp from him. His face went red with anger.

"Then why the frak haven't any of you called for back up!?" He screamed, shaking the man by the neck. As he shook, the message got home for the Officer.

"Oh frak, never thought of that!" Tarkus dropped the man and lay back against the pillar, amazed out of his anger by the sheer stupidity of the men he was trusting to watch his back. Not waiting any longer to be shot the gaurd raised a finger to his ear, shouting to be heard. "Gaurd patrol seven to base, gaurd patrol seven to base!" He calmed noticably as an answer chimed through unheard by Tarkus. "We are meeting heavy resistance on Saint's Square, need aid, need aid now!" He dropped his finger and winced as another of his men was shot in the face.

"Anything?" Tarkus faked a casual tone, raising long enough to remove the head of one of the cultists as he made a dash for them. The Officer smiled weakly and gave him a thumbs up, Tarkus nodded and tried to ignore the smell of rockrete dust and bodily fluids that had begun to waft from his uniform. At least he'd be out of the combat soon enough, or have better support if he remained. Could have picked a better spot to wait though, he thought with a snort.

The two groups traded fire for a while, Tarkus scoring the only kill shots on his side. The remaining gaurdsmen seamed to be in better spirit though, with the news of backup on its way. But something was wrong, he could feel it in his bones. As if chaos attacks were ever not wrong, but this was different. But as annoying as the thought was, he couldn't place his finger on what it was.

The pot shots from the cultists grew less frequent as Tarkuss waited, soon only a few guns firing off randomly. They were pulling back, he realized suddenly. And when chaos pulled back it never meant anything good. And as he finished the realization he heard the whistle of a falling object in time to see something small sailing into the air from a few buildings away.

"Get down!" Tarkus screamed, diving onto his stomach and clenching his eyes shut. The gaurdsmen followede suit, not bothering to even ask what was happening. Curled up as best he could Tarkus waited for the explosion, knowing for sure that a grenade or rocket was about to kill them all. Finally a blast issued, almost prompting his bladder to release. But the explosion wasn't near him, and the object hadn't even landed near them. Opening his eyes with a confused frown Tarkus got back to his knees. "What the?" he muttered, peeping slowly over the blast marked pillar.

No las fire met him this time, instead he just watched the building they had been shooting from belch out fire and chunks of rubble. Most of the side of the building was a broken ruin, and the remainder looked on the verge of falling over. The Officer stood slowly, like he expected to be shot any moment. When that didn't happen he tapped on the shoulders of the gaurds next to him, prompting them out of the fetal position. Tarkus scratched his head in wonder, standing from his cover to see better. Had the reinforcments come? Did any of the reinforcments even have the fire power to blow up a building like that? But as he asked the answer came to him.

"Hello sir," He said without turning around. The Officer and his men shouted in surprise at the sudden presence of the strangly dressed man behind them. That explained the bomb at least, ingatius being as fond of slinging clusters of grenades as he was. Tarkus kept looking at the building, not bothering with his Boss for a moment, something was still off.

Seeing a particulalry frightened young man among the gaurds, Ignatius straightened to his full height and threw his arms up in the air dramatically, screetching like a warp spawned demon. The young gaurd fell back without a sound, unconscious before he ever his the ground. The others backed away from the terrifying man, eyeing him suspiciosly as he giggled over the sleeping gaurd.

Tarkus was drawn back from the sight of the burning building by the sound of movement comign from behind them. Aiming his hand flammer ahead, Tarkus waited for the cause of the wierd noise to round the corner. His finger tightened a bit at the tortured sound, growing clearer as it drew closer.

"And another thing, could you possibly not jostle me about so much?" The voice was rising and falling strangely but Tarkus remembered it as they finally rounded the corner. Twerp was carrying the secretary over her shoulder, silently taking the stream of complaints with a resigned look. "Oh, hello Commissar." She interupted her complaint as Twerp brought her closer to the group of people.

"Is she ok?" Tarkus asked almost smiling at the way the woman's head was lolling from side to side as she held on to Twerp. Dana looked up at him and tried to smile, or maybe not as the end result looked like she was going to be ill. Ignatius left the now completaly cowed gaurds and scooped the nearly sleeping secretary out of Twerps arms. Twerp looked gratefull to be rid of the woman, rubbing circulation back into her pale arms with a scowl.

"She is drugged," Ignatius explained, passing the girl to Tarkus like she was a sack of potatoes. Dana whimpered pitifully as Tarkus repositioned her to keep from dropping her. "Heavily drugged, used up most of Twerp's stash trying to get her to stop screaming every time we hit a bump." While he spoke, Ignatius poked Dana's forhead repeatedly with his gloved finger. Her eyes swung open for a moment and she groaned at him like a baby. Seeing a grin begining to form on Ignatius's face at her response, Tarkus drew away from him, knowing that it could take hours to disuade him if he found fun in bothering the helpless woman.

"What's the plan Sir?" Tarkus quickly asked, more to desract the Inquisitor than out of any real concern. Ignatius began to answer but turned sharply back to the burning building. Tarkus looked back too, getting that weird feeling again.

"Something is in there..." Ignatius murmered, fingering the hole in his hat absent mindedly. Tarkus's eyes widened in shock as a form became clear behind the flames of the building, drawing closer to them. Too tall to be human, Tarkus took stock of the thing as it exited the flamming structure with a heart stoping howl. The thing that emerged was horrifying to behold, almost forcing Tarkus to drop the now prone form of Dana in his fear.

It was closer to eight feet tall than seven, covered from head to neck in ceremite armor similar to what a space marine would wear, but that was where the similarities ended. Not doning a helmet the thing's face was opened to the world, skinless and covered mostly by a maw of razor sharp yellow teeth. The sockets that had once held the things eyes were empty now, holes covered by a thin layer of sickly grey skin. In one hand the creature held a sword the size of a grown man, in the other a sheild that looked too heavy for any mortal to lift. One side of the monster's armor was sloppily painted white, the other black matching the white glow ot the power sword and the black color of the shield.

Tarkus remained on his feet with a monumental effort, feeling the weight of mind crushing horror fill his soul. The thing was coming for him, and it would feast on his soul he knew. The monster opened its freakish mouth in response, hissing like a snake. Dana muttered frightfully in his arms, feeling the fear even in her slumber. Twerp's face contorted in silent panic, curling her body into a ball before the thing.

"Holy Emperor on Earth... what is that thing?" The Officer gasped, falling to his knees in horror. The monster strode into the center of the square, seeing them without eyes in a way that made Tarku's skin crawl. The other gaurds were on their knees now too, weapons forgotten in the all consuming fear.

"You're a big fellow hu?" Ignatius mocked the thing, hoping onto the pillar like a cat and spreading his arms wide in greating. Tarkus blinked, feeling the tendrils of terror that had been worming into his mind fall away at the sight of his crazy leader facing the thing without the slightest hint of fear. What was wrong with him, or right in this case, Tarkus wondered. The thing bellowed in rage, spittle flying from its gaping mouth in rivets. Lifting its skull emplazened shield, the thing charged forth with an earthquake like rumble of its huge limbs. "Oh goody, a warm up!" Ignatius laughed, jumping from the pillar and matching the thing's charge with a wolfish grin plastered on his face.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch.6 Kill em All

__

"From The Memoir of Commissar Tarkus"

Did I ever tell you I watched him get into a fist fight with an ork nob? Of course Ignatius won, I still managed to get punched in the eye during the fight though...

It is believed that Tarkus was highley intoxicated by this point, which explaines his public referance to Inquisitorial operations. Such drunken outbursts account for the majority of Ignatius's publicly known ventures, much to the chagrin of the Inquisition.

They all peeked over the pillar like children up past their bed time, watching the amazing spectacle that was the mad Inquisitor. Tarkus let his mouth hange open, despight the fact that he had seen his boss do much more stupid things before and survive. Even so, this thing was something even a Tyranid would have nightmares about.

Both were roaring battle cries as they charged, the monster's deafening and Ignatius's high pitched and annoying. They closed the last few feet at a dead run, the monster raising its huge sword for a kill swing. Almost faster than they could follow with their eyes, Ignatius went to his knees keeping all the momentum of his run. The beast's sword bit the ground with a shower of droken ground and sparks as the Inquisitor slid between its legs. As he slid under the thing a blue flash heralded the firing of his plasma pistol.

"Ah," Ignatius muttered, standing up to face the monster as it bellowed in rage at its miss. "No genitalia I'm assuming." Indeed it must not have, for a plasma pistol shot at point blank into the groin would have annoyed any gifted with such organs. If the thing felt any pain it hid it well, not that it would have mattered if it had screamed. The thing swung its sword sideways faster than Tarkus would have believed anything able to move such a bulky weapon. Equaly as fast the Inquisitor took a casual step back out of reach of the attack, covering a giggle with his empty hand.

He was toying with the thing, Tarkus realized with a shiver. That monstrosity was damn near one of the most frightening things he had ever encountered and Ignatius was having fun with the damn thing? The monster roared once more, skinless face contorting sickly in frustration at its newest miss. Ignatius laughed out loud now, replacing his plasma pistol in its unseen holster with a flourish. The gun wouldn't do him much good anyway, Tarkus noticed. Better to do without it and have a free hand.

The next attack came in the form of a kick, sent with enough force to topple a sentinel. The Inquisitor stepped back, letting the upward traveling armored boot get to chin height before grabbing it with both hands, sending him sailing into the air like a toy. The thing looked at the spot he had kicked in confusion, clearly having missed the sly move. Ignatius gracefuly landed behind the monster, spinning a kick into the thing's back before it had a chance to turn.

His booted foot bounced off like a spit wad shot at a Lemon Russ, forcing a stream of pained curses out of the Inquisitor as he clutched his sore foot and hopped backward. The thing turned faster than it had before, gaining speed Tarkus didn't know it possessed. It pointed its sword forward chalengingly at the Inquisitor, who forgot his sore foot in the face of the hideous thing.

"Come now, surely we're not past talking it out?" The Inquisitor shouted, bending his body nearly in half to duck a stabbing lung from the man sized glowing blade. As he straightened back up Tarkus saw the ruse before the Inquisitor ever got a chance. The monster didn't pull back from the missed attack, instead following through and bringing the skull emplazened up with a whoosh of displaced air.

Tarkus flinched as the bulky skull sheild plowed into the surprised Inquisitor's exposed face, knocking him away from the charging beast like a rag doll. Ignatius didn't have time for a cry of pain as he was flung into the far wall of a building, sticking to the wall spread eagle in an almost comical fashion. The Gaurdsmen around Tarkus starting edging away from the pillar nervously. Tarkus had rarely ever seen a hit land on the agile Inquisitor, and he had never seen such a devistating one land at all. It might actualy have killed him, Tarkus thought with wonder and more than a touch of fear.

"If he dies, we're next!" The Officer excused himself and his men from Tarkus's judging glare as they fled the sight of the battle. Tarkus muttered a curse and turned away from the fleeing men. This was infinitly more emportant, and he could always shoot them for cowardis later.

By the time Tarkus looked back Ignatius had fallen off the wall and lay prone at the feet of the monster. His body went icy with cold sweat as the thing curiosly poked the form of his Boss with its sword. What the Officer had said was right, if that thing had indeed killed Ignatius it would surely kill Tarkus next.

The monster lifted its sword slowly for the executing blow, seamingly savoring the moment. Suddenly a red flash collided with the thing's armored back innefectivly. It turned around with a threatening hiss, forgeting its defeated enemy for the moment in the face of its latest target. Tarkus traced the las shot back to its target, sputtering in panic as he found Twerp standing next to him with a smoking las pistol aimed at the thing.

"Are you crazy!?" He cried as the monster began its charge toward them. "You're just pissing it off!" Twerp ignored him, pumping off shot after useless shot into the thing. It didn't even seem to notice the las shots as they bounced off its armor, preparing to kill them both with as little effort as Tarkus would expend to crush a bug. Twerp's eyes began to widen in horror and realization as the abomination closed in on them. There was nothing they could do now, Tarkus knew as he too began to fire at the thing without results.

The monster grinded to a halt in front of the pillar, placing one gaint foot onto it and winding back its sword arm. Before it could swing a booted foot ploped onto its face, knocking its swing so far off target Tarkus didn't even need to dodge.

"Dear Emperor!" Tarkus whispered, looking up at the strangest thing he had seen in all his years with the mad Inquisitor. Ignatius was back from the dead it seamed, his typical smile smudged with blood on one side and tinted pink from the impact of the blow. The Inquisitor stood on one foot, balancing on the stunned monster's face with his arms out wide to mantain his position as he cackled to the sky. And as fast as the moment had come it was gone, The Inquisitor performing a flip off of the thing's head and landing between Twerp and Tarkus as gently as a cat.

The landing broke the trance, and the monster hissed at them like an angered serpent. Tarkus and Twerp flinched away from the thing, leaving Ignatius alone as the thing lumped onto the pillar with a booming stomp. Shedding his fractured glasses Ignatius glared up at the monster, pointing a finger to its neck and waiting. The monster stopped, shifting its ugly head to the side.

Tarkus followed his finger and spotted what the Inquisitor was pointing at. The monster had one of Ignatius's special bundles of grenades wrapped around its neck, most likely dropped on it when Ignatius jumped onto its head, not that Tarkus had been given enough time to spot the movement at the time. Not waisting time, Tarkus picked up the still sleeping Dana and took off down the street followed quickly by Twerp and Ignatius.

Strangely enough the doomed thing didn't bother chasing them, instead it looked to the sky with its eyeless face and howled its defeat to the heavens like a wolf at the moon. As he ran Tarkus shivered again in terror at the sheer power fear the thing had held over him.

As the thing cried out the timers on the grenades finally ran out, blowing the top half of the monster into a plume of crimson mist and armor fragments. None of them neaded to turn to know when the bomb went off, instead all three were knocked to the ground by the wave of heat. Tarkus landed painfully on Dana, driving the wind from his lungs.

"Pardon me," The secretary grumbled as she woke. "What did I miss?" The question annoyed Tarkus more than it should have, something about her casual tone after he had been through so much hell. Tarkus put her back to sleep with a punch to the forhead, feeling much better for having releaved the stress. He'd pay for that one later he knew.

"Not much," He answered the now sleeping girl as they got moving again. Ignatius nodded his support for the silencing of Dana and walked on, not even limping after the superhuman blow he had sustained. Tarkus tried not to dwell on it, he'd never get an answer anyway. Best to just let the Boss do his stuff while he found a relatively safe place to try and clean his suit.

"You do smell quite rank," Ignatius added, as though hearing Tarkus's thoughts. He and Twerp shared a good laugh while they walked.

---

The woman reapeared, ready to deliver tidings he already had knew. They stood amongst the Monoliths once more, though more of the machines were now glowing silently in the anceint chamber than before. She waited for him to turn and acknowledge her, not wanting to speak to his back. He waited a while longer savoring her annoyance at being ignored.

Finally he turned from the old structures and faced his aprentice with his covered arms over his chest. She leaned on one leg almost nervously, waiting for him to speak. He considered letting her stue in her discomfort for a while but thought better of it, everyone had a limit he knew.

"He killed your pet?" He asked chidingly, feeling her bristle. That she had expected anything less disapointed him more than a little. She nodded and waited for him to continue. "Just as well, it would have looked strange for an Inquisitor to be killed by simple cultists."

"Yes, it would." She grudgingly agreed after recieving his superior stare for a few moments. He laughed sadly, gesturing for her to join him as he exited the chamber and made his way up the dark hall.

"We cannot afford to draw too much atention before the Necrons awaken," He repeated the much used warning as they marched on. And it was a warning of which held great trueth, they both knew. They lacked the manpower to hold off an army of Space Marines, which would surely be sent if anyone in the Imperium caught wind of what was developing on that backwater little planet. "We must only soe enough discord to cause confusion, not bring forth overwelming retribution."

"But I hunger for vengense!" She whined, perfectly assuming the voice of a child she had undoubtedly killed and drained the soul of at one point or another. He smiled at her jest, but understood the undercurrent of seriousness.

"Soon," He reasured her. "Soon the mindless destruction of the Necron hoard will be awakened. And it will tear the Imperium of the Corpse Emperor asunder, guided unseen ever closer to our true enemy." She cheered up as he went on. "The vile Gods of Chaos will fall, and the Eye of Terror will be ready for the coming of our lord!"

"Maalaal be praised," She finished for him.

"Indeed," He agreed. His God would be praised, and he would have his time soon enough.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch.7 The Little Things

_"From Imperial Fire: A First Hand Account of Exterminatus"_

_The first thing one would notice from space would of course be the missile, a speck of light which would be lost to sight before it ever reached the atmosphere. On a green world (under clear weather conditions) you would begin to see a patch of dirty drown spreading over the surface just fast enough to be distinguishable by the naked eye. This expanding wave of sickly brown is the bio sludge left behind in the wake of the all consuming virus. Capable of crossing ever the largest of oceans, the virus will completely cover the surface of any sized planet in as little as fifteen hours, and little more than twenty to sink into the deeper layers of the crust. Once the planet has been thoroughly consumed by the virus an incindiary barrage is fired from the orbiting battle ship, ignighting the highly flammable bio sludge. The resulting fire storm will leave the planet blackened for decades and a desert for the next thousand years, ensuring that the threat is surely removed. _

Tarkus payed little atention to the breifing, focasing instead on the gloriously fresh fealing of the new uniform the Governor had provided him in thanks for his "brave" defense of the Hive. The table they sat at was the same of the same overly ornate style that the Governor had decorated his whole complex in, hurting Tarku's eyes with its polished gold framing. With the ecception of Ignatius's group there were around twenty people gathered around the table, most as overly dressed as the Governor. Twerp ate her fourth helping of peck seed pudding, ignoring the meeting with as much vigure as Tarkus. Ignatius slept blissfully, head laying on the table next to a half finished bowl of soup.

"PDF forces have succeeded in cutting down an estimated seventy percent of the Cultist forces in just a few hours!" One of the Governor's advisers exclaimed, raising a huge mug in a toast that none of the other members bothered to join in. Tarkus rolled his eyes unseen, wishing he could follow his Boss's lead and just take a nap. By the time the PDF had even arrived most of the Cultists had disapeared without a trace, meaning that whatever they were after had already been reached. Ignatius hadn't told him much other than that they needed to hold the hive together for a few days longer, and that the Cultists weren't the real threat. This was of course after Ignatius had spent yet another night locked away with an Astropath and several pots of recaff.

"But what of the other thirty percent?" One of the other beurocrats hurrumfed, sending a ripple of murmered agreements through the table. While the atention was at the other end of the table Tarkus leaned to his side and whispered.

"I think they're actualy enjoying this," Twerp lookd up from her meal long enough to nod her agreement with a pudding stained smile. Not for the first time Tarkus regretted not following miss Printes's advice. Better to avoid the Lord's gathering,she had told him, it always drags on for hours pointlessly. How true that had turned out to be, he thought with a sip of the disgusting liquid that passed for liquer there. They had been in the infernal gathering since morning and the day was fast arpouching standard noon.

The Governor's people were sitting in loose groups of concacts at the table, each smaller gathering whispering conspiritorialy about the other groups. Such petty things were the reason Tarkus hated polotics. It was alway a case of who is trying to betray me while I betray someone else, with them he knew. They were the reason chaos took hold on so many worlds, too weak to come together when the time came.

"We have investigators working on several trails as we speak," The first man replied defensively. From what he could tell, Tarkus assumed that the first was in charge of the Hive defense forces and the second was representing some kind of public group. Not that he cared overly much, but it was best to keep his social reading skill sharp, it being one of the few he had at all. By that time Twerp had finished her bowl and nestled her head into her arms, following Ignatius into slumber and drawing akward stares from the more stuck up members of the Governor's cabnet.

Durmont spoke breifly at one point, but Tarkus caught little of it through the now thickenning cloud of intoxication forming around his eighth glass of the smelly drink. He had so few opertunities to practise his one hobby those days, too busy being shot at or being locked in small spaces by his Boss. So as the Governor and his small minded followers and advisers rammbled on Tarkus worked on getting mind numbingly sauced, forgetting more of his social graces as he went.

"The point is we have all but dealt with the chaos threat on the Hive," One of the idiots spoke with what might pass for finality. Tarkus pounded his fist on the table, slurring his agreement whole heartedly despight not really knowing what the man had said. The men paused for a moment, stairing at the drunk Commissar, some with ammussment and others with disdain or even fear. Tarkus shook his head in a vein atempt to clear it, glaring at the man across the table from his for some reason he couldn't quite remember.

"I, I ur, think we should declare a holiday..." Tarkus shouted, trying to stand for a toast but settling instead for spilling his drink on a very fancy looking candle table went silent, no one sure how to brouch the subject of moderation to an Imperial Commissar who could by all rights have them executed in his drunken rage. Changing the subject as fast as possible Durmont spoke up again.

"I believe it would be best for the investigation to be led by the Lord Inquisitor," The Governor proposed, emphisizing the last part in an attempt to wake the sleeping Inquisitor. Ignatius simply grumbled something into his elbow and went on with his nap, leaving Durmont to fidget nervously under the collective glare of his fellows. Tarkus stood with a wobble and declared.

"We accept responsability for the search!" He really didn't have the power or right to accept any missions in the stead of his Boss, but alchohol did wonders for letting one forget one's bouderies. The Governor nodded thankefully at Tarkus and signaled one of the servants to refill his drink after a moments hesitation. The meeting finally came to an end around an hour later, each of the cabnet members excusing themselves with a bow to the Governor and the still sleeping Inquisitor, around whom a farely large sized puddle of drool had now formed.

"Urm, I'll wait here." Tarkus stated above the normal speaking volume as the Governor himself let them know pressing buisness that demanded his atention.

"Should I have another bottle brought in?" Durmont asked with a nervous frown, half out the door already. Tarkus shook his head vigerously, bringing a releived though silent sigh from Durmont.

"I know, em, know my limit thanks," Tarkus explained to the empty doorway, wobbling around the table to better view the large window. As far as he could tell by the traffic far below and the dozens of transport air cars floating around, buisness in Sheroka hive was going on regaurdless of the previous night's calamity. The thought comforted him strangely enough, something about the human spirit moving on in spite of the fowl intrusions of chaos. He finished the last bit of liquer in the bottle with a grimace and set it on the window ledge, letting it keep him company in place of his sleeping comrads.

For a Hive world it had remarkably clean air, he noticed with an apreciatively deep intake of the only faintly smoggy afternoon. The feeling of peace he had experianced while walking the streets returned, enhanced by the good mood he always fell into while drunk. Though a long way away from the Hive he had been born on Sheroka still managed to impress him with its grey spires and gothic butressed walls. With the cool fall breeze blowing on him and a nice state of mind already in progress Tarkus soon closed his eyes, letting the window's ledge keep him standing as he slept. The impromptu nap lasted about five minutes before a voice suddenly sounded off beside him.

"Quite a sight isn't it?" Tarkus turned around with a startled gasp, knocking the bottle off the ledge as he did. Hopefully it wouldn't land on anyone he dedicated a split second's thought, as any object falling from that height would probably be deadly. The owner of the voice leaned on the window sill next to where he had been, ginning at his stupified surprise.

"Urm, what?" Tarkus sputtered, returning to the window and trying not to tip over. Dana didn't bother repeating herself, instead she just guided his gaze back to the city. "Ah yes, very pretty!" He muttered absent mindedly. But as he spoke his mind crawled back to the night before, struggling past the wall of liquer. "Weren't you, um, hurt?" He couldn't manage a more eloquent phrasing at the moment. Dana frowned breifly and paused.

"Yes. I broke my leg," She admited suddenly sounding annoyed. Tarkus waited, sure there was more. When it became aparent she wouldn't speak further he spoke up instead.

"And it recovered that, that fast hu?" It did indeed strike him as odd that she would be up so fast. In answer Dana rapped her fist dully against her dress covered leg, emitting a metalic clank. Tarkus stared at the dress dumbly, not able to connect the dots.

"The Lord Inquisitor recomended an augmetic replacement to the Governor as a faster means of recovery..." She explained, her face blank. Tarkus slurred a curse, not sure what to say.

"Sorry," Was all he could manage in his current state. His boss had done some bad things without actualy meaning to, not realising that a recomendation from an Inquisitor was nothing short of a life or death order in the eyes of most servants of the Imperium. He could picture how it had gone now, Ignatius off handedly commenting on augmetics after handing Dana to the Governor's staff, who would of course take that comment as an Inquisitorial order. Afterwards Dana would of course have woken one limb short of a full set and with no idea why.

"It's fine," Dana replied with a sigh, still he couldn't tell what she was feeling through the haze of his mind.

"Ah miss Printes!" They both joined in a yelp of surprise as Inquisitor Ignatius made his presence known. Patting them both on the back Ignatius continued his greeting, smiling widely. "How good to," Before the grinning Inquisitor could get any further the secretary sent an augmeticly enhanced foot rocketing into his groin with a metal on flesh "whump." Without even time for a gasp, the Inquisitor crumpled to the ground, eyes widening in shock.

"No hard feeling then?" The Inquisitor rasped in a high pitched and pained tone. Dana nodded her agreement and leened back on the window sill to enjoy her work.

Well at least now he knew what she was feeling, Tarkus thought with a satisfied laugh as he watched his boss squirm under the angered glare of Dana.

++I know, kicking an Inquisitor in the nuts doesn't seem like a good idea, but I think he knew he had it coming++

---

++Sorry for interupting twice in one chapter, just wanted to let you know this is the first apearance of the story's newest members, who will be something of a beta team to Ignatius and his followers++

Inquisitor Claudia Macdowell read the screen silently, face betraying nothing in terms of emotion or mind state. Her room was spartan to the extreme, containing only her small cot and a crate containing her time worn Sororitas power armor and a few other odds and ends. She sat on her cot, flicking through the data slate's single entry with single minded interest. Though short enough to finish in a few seconds Claudia had spent hours at it, frowning to herself in concern.

_Astropathica sub line: 21'21'Gamma_

_Personal Code Phrase: Talon, Rose, Bolter_

_Claudia,_

_please understand that my situation is dire or I would never consider coming to you for aid. When last we met you said you never wanted to see me again and I plan to hold true to your desires, but this is a matter of grave importance to the Imperium as a whole. It has recently been brought to my atention that what was thought to be the rise of a mere chaos cult is indeed the beginning of a full blown Necron threat. The Chaos worshippers have stumbled apon a necron tomb the scale of which I didn't even know existed, and those stupid bastards are trying to wake them! _

_There is nothing within a close enough range of the sytem that could possibly stop this, but I've sent some help ahead of you that will hopefully stall the rise of the Necrons long enough for you to arrive. I couldn't gain the location of the tomb before my contact was descovered and killed, but I have full confidence in your ability to find your old enemies. The planet is Canuse of the Exetor system of the Segmentum Tempestus, please be there soon. There will be a more detailed report waiting for you on Sheroka Hive of Canuse._

_(still) Your loving father, Delphios_

With a sigh Claudia shut the data slate off and lay back onto her cot. The familiar hum of her ship did little to comfort her at that moment, her emerald eyes remaining squinted in frustration and confusion. Part of her wanted to track the old bastard down and beat him to a pulp, but she knew that the threat of a Necron army was more important than her personal feelings. She twirled a lock of her raven hair between her fingers as she always did when she was bothered, which was more often than she would like.

Claudia's drooding was interupted as her bunk door opened with a rusty whine, letting in the first bit of light she had seen other than the data slate since she had locked herself in her room three days ago. Claudia glared up from her bed, angry at being bothered after leaving strict orders not to be desterbed. The woman who skipped in was strange looking to say the least. Dressed in a simple white robe that covered a body inscribed from head to toe in tattood holy scripture by the Inquisition, Bella Fairchild was her usualy manicly happy self.

"Heya Boss," Bell greated the still glowering Claudia with a freindly wave and a toothy smile. Bell was pretty much the opposit of Claudia in every way. Where as Bell was short, pale, constantly happy and of a bird like frame, Claudia was around six seven, tan skinned, prone to dour moods and much more shapely. Bell was also crazy as a loon, but being a psyker Claudia let most of her unusual habbits go without a fuss.

"What is it?" Claudia asked with ill contained anger. Bell paused for a moment, probably trying to remember why she had come. Finally she tapped her head and remembered.

"Charlie says to come to the control room really really fast!" She spouted out as though it were the winning answer in a word game. Claudia rolled her eyes and drug herself out of the bed, pausing only to slip on more clothing than her currently worn night gown. Properly dressed in her red over coat and a simple grey jumpsuit Claudia followed the bouncing Bell out of her dark room.

"What does he want?" Claudia asked, rubbing her eyes to get used to the flickering lighting of the halls. Bell shrugged and walked on at a casual walts, dragging on Claudia's freyed nerves like a nail on glass. They marched the rest of the way through the empty halls in silence, or as close to it as they could get with the constant sound of the ship and Bell's humming of whatever song had gotten stuck in her head at the moment. The door to the control room was open when they arrived.

"Why have you desturbed me Charles?" The Inquisitor demanded as she stepped into the cable strewn cock pit of the _Emperor's Child_, fixing the Navigator with a frosty stair. Charles Pike had been an ative navigator for longer than Claudia cared to guess, wrinkled old forhead wrapped in a cloth to cover his third eye while he was away from the navigator's throne. The old man turned his head to her slowely, pushing his willowy beard out of his face with a liver spotted hand.

"We've run into some... trouble." Charles said diplomaticly.

"Trouble?" Claudia and Bell turned as a bear of a man entered the cock pit. Even amongst Ogryn Cal Cropper was some one to be feared, the whole of his stone like body crisscrossed with scares and muscle. And those muscles were on full display dressed as he always was in a sleavless shirt and combat boots and pants. The bald Cadian walked into the room with a noticable thump of his booted feet, scratching at his newly replaced augmetic eye. "What kind?" He asked, and Claudia could tell from her old freind's tone he hoped it was the kind that was solved with a hellgun.

"The trouble is that I have found an anomaly in the warp," Charles put in before Cal had time to go into one of his "how much I enjoy toasting chaos marines" speech again. Claudia stepped forward, bringing up a static fringed map on the table mounted holo projector. They all looked at the strange jumble of shapes and flowing colors, none of them able to understand a bit of it but Charles.

"Will it slow us down?" Claudia asked, going strate to buisness. Charles looked up at her slowly, raising a bushy eyebrow,

"It is not in our way," He explained in a school teacher tone. "It is heading toward Canuse from the opisite direction we are aprouching from" Claudia twirled her fingers in her hair, willing herself not to strangle the maddeningly slowly speaking old navigator. "It will arrive a day or so after we have landed,"

"So what's the problem?" Cal asked, fiddling with his new eye destractedly and causing a spark to leap from it. Charles took a moment to gather his breath, and for a moment Claudia actualy started to think the man had fallen asleep. He spoke once more just before Claudia had a chance to pummel the back of his head to wake him.

"The anomaly is ninety seven percent consistant with recorded behavior of the phenomenon known as the shadow in the warp." He stated with a dusty cough. They were all silent, each taking in the shocking news.

"What the frak does that mean?" Cal finally asked, forcing a groan from the other three.

"Tyranids..." Bell informed him with a sweat grin.

"I'll get my flamer!" Cal called out excitedly as he ran out of the cock pit. Claudia massaged the bridge of her noes to calm herself down as Cal ran off and Bell giggled hystericly at the sight. She really needed new followers...


	9. Chapter 9

Ch.8 Trouble Tends To Stack

_"From the memior of Commissar Tarkus'_

_I need a vacation..._

Tarkus clutched his throbing head and tried to ignore the agonizing whistle of las fire, also putting forth an effort in order to avoid vommiting. The eternaly darkened halls of the underhive had come as a releif to the hung over Commissar at first, allowing his light sensative eyes to relax untill they actually found the cultists they had been searching for. Now he and five PDF soldiers sat on the filthy ground behind a stack of crates, with him squeezing his eyes shut and popping off shots down the hallway every once in a while. Why in the Warp he had signed up for this was beyond him, not the first time the booz had betrayed him.

He had damn near lost his head a few moments ago, rounding a corner and coming face to face with several paniced cultists. Luckily he had enough time to rally the men behind the crates, though not before one or two had been blasted by the hectic cultist fire. Tarkus unhooked his hand flamer and peeked over the boxes, trying to guess how far away they were. If he could get closer the weapon would toast them all in an instant, but getting closer seemed sure to involve being shot in the face at the moment.

"Sir, beta team is reporting heavy fire in the iron works storage complex." The leading PDF Officer informed him over the las fire, pointing in the general direction of the iron works district. Tarkus nodded without comment, they had enough trouble without worrying about what Ignatius and those unfortunate enough to have been assigned to follow him were up to.

"I don't suppose any of you have grenades?" Tarkus asked, forcing back a alchohol fowled burp. The officer shook his head with a blank look. Of course they didn't, he was just lucky they even had las guns. They were a step up from the Hive Gaurdsmen, at least they didn't flee at the first sign of danger.

"They don't give us gren," Before the PDF could finish a metal object bounced over the cover of the boxes and came to rest in Tarkus's lap. They both stared at the cultist thrown grenade in wonder and confusion, taking a moment for it to reach their brains.

"Holy frak!" Tarkus yelped, tossing the grenade franticaly over his head and hoping to the Emperor that the timer wasn't too short. With a shiver of releif from Tarkus the grenade went of a second later, accompanied by the pained screams of several cultists. Reflex taking over completely, Tarkus vaulted over the cover while the sound of the explosion was still fresh in his ears. No las shots came down as he dashed into the coud of smoke and concrete dust, whipping his hand flamer out of the holster with the speed of a trained duelist.

As he exited the other end of the smoke cloud Tarkus had only enough time to widen his eyes before he smashed the end of his flamer unexpectedly into the opened mouth a very surprised cultist. Had he not been fighting for his life Tarkus would have taken a moment to apreciate the humor of shooting a screaming chaos worshiper in the mouth. Not wanting to waste time Tarkus pulled the trigger, bunching a disgusting smelling hole through the back of the cultist's mouth and catching two others in the stream of burning promethium as they prepared to return fire. The cultist stayed transxifed on Tarkus's gun, actually blocking a few las shots with his corpse from the remaining three enemies who were pumping shots wildly in terror.

By this time the PDF boys had finally taken the initiative to help and all five were charging down the hall, screaming in fear as much as blood lust. Tarkus released his grip on the corpse and gun diving onto the ground with a curse as the PDF unleashed a torrent of las fire through the obscuring smoke, almost killing him before they ever cleared the smoke. But as close as they had come Tarkus survived, head ache induced red eyes glarring up as the cultists were butchered by the scissoring fire of the PDF.

"Sir," The officer offered his hand and pulled Tarkus up with a grunt that was a little too noticable. Tarkus dusted himself off, dismayed to see his brand new suit covered in soot and a few flwcks of burnt flesh. The other PDFs were fanning out as Tarkus cleaned himself, covering the exits and openings in the underground labrynth almost as well as real Imperial Gaurdsmen. It was shaping up to be a long day, he sighed and gave up trying to return the uniform to its former state of newness.

"What's the status of the Inquisitor and his group?" Tarkus asked in his Commissar tone of command, which they taught at the Commissariat to cow Gaurdsmen into obedience without having to shoot anyone. The Officer conversed with his ear bud for a moment and turned back to Tarkus with the beginnings of a smile.

"Status is green sir," He said, now visibly holding back a smile. "But the Governor has requested that you speak to the Inquisitor about the dangers of using high powered explosives near the promethium tanks of the iron forge. Tarkus grinned too, that did sound like... The thought was interupted by the distant but noticable rumble of an explosion, sending flecks of dust cascading down the ceiling. "Never mind," The PDF added after the explosion faded.

"Don't worry," Tarkus told the Officer, taking the moment of peace to exchange his bolter clip for a fresh one. "It takes a lot to kill my Boss." The PDF nodded, still grinning. They had found three pockets of cultist resistance now, killing each group without too much trouble. And knowing Ignatius like he did, the Inquisitor had probably tripled his score. His head felt much better after the rush of adrenaline brought on by the battle, making the flickering lights of the underhive a little less painfull.

"Where to now sir? That was the last marked target in our sector." The Officer asked, casually blasting one of the still stwitching cultists in the face with his las gun. Tarkus paused, not wanting to say it, but knowing it was really the only thing left to do.

"To the iron works," He sighed, holstering his weapons and stealing himself for the destruction his Boss will have inevitably reaked on the area. The PDFs smiled their agreement and went through a quick weapons check. Almost everyone in the PDF regiment had taken a liking to the flamoyant Inquisitor after a few tales of his exploits. It annoyed Tarkus that they all idolized Ignatius without ever having to work with the insane Inquisitor.

Tarkus stepped lightly through the ash piles that marked the final resting places of the cultists, making his way down yet another of the underhive's dank tunnels. The PDFs fell into line behind him, the same formation they had been using all day. They made slow progress, frequently having to consult the crumpled map Tarkus had thankefully thought to bring along. But before long they came to the entrance of the iron works district, forcing open a dented and rusted door to the strangest sight Tarkus had seen in years... or at least that day.

That section of the underhive had been opened to the sky by the force of the promethium blast, layer apon layer of blackened tunnels revealed up to the surface twelve stories above. Ash rained down into a smoking craker the size of a transport ship, in which a battle was raging the likes of which one could only expect to see in the presence of Dante Ignatius. The PDF stood beside Tarkus, all of their mouths agape at the fight.

Standing knee deep in a puddle of ash darkened water Inquisitor ignatius whirled and struck out like a human thunderstorm, surrounded by a hoard of strange creatures Tarkus had never seen before. The things were made of some kind of metal he could tell, but draped in what looked like blood smeared slabs of flesh. Each of the things dashed forward and struck out at the mad Inquisitor, who ducked or redirected the razor clawed attacks franticly. There was no sign of the PDF troops who had been attached to Ignatius's search party, though Tarkus had the sick idea that the creatures had recently doned the skin suits they wore.

"Fire Emperor damn you!" Tarkus roared, pulling out both of his weapons and charging into the mele. The PDF stood dumbly for a moment in fright or indesision before one began to fire on the metal beasts. Running into the smoke dimmed light of the hole in the hive Tarkus peppered one of the dozens of things with his bolt pistol, blasting the thing's chest into peices and toppling it into the murky water. Stranger than the monster's themselves, Tarkus thought as some broke off from the fight against the Inquisitor to attack them, was that not one of the green eyed metal skeletons made a sound as they fought.

"I think they stole my hat!" Ignatius bellowed, finally taking notice of the group that had come to aid him. His plasma pistol flared out as Ignatius pressed it firmly into the eye of one of the monsters, removing the upper half of its chest in a flash of light. By then the PDF had opened fire in ernest, the hail of las fire not doing much real damage but helping none the less. Tarkus gritted his teeth, toarching a group of enemies with his hand flamer and watching them arpouch him regaurdless of the fire that swallowed them. The flamer fizzled out as the small tank hit empty, forcing a curse from Tarkus as he switched back to the bolt pistol and blasted the flamming monsters.

"What the hell are they?" Tarkus rasped as one of them socred an agonizing slash down the flat of his back before he whirled around and blasted it in the face. Ignatius planted a boot into the face of one of them, not hurting it but opening it up for a shot from his rappidly overheating plasma pistol.

"Necrons!" Ignatius answered as he blasted the arm off of the thing, watching it charge on without even flinching at the loss of the limb. Tarkus reached a hand behind him and felt the heavily bleeding wound while he kept up the fire on the Necrons. If this didn't end soon he would faint from blood loss he knew from the heavy flow streaming down his torn coat.

"Aw frak!" Tarkus muttered through gritted teeth, taking down another Necron with his bolt pistol just in time to dive away from another pair of attackers. He had heard of Necrons, metal horrors without fear or souls who left no life in their wake. Screams from behind signaled Tarkus to the Flayed One's success in reaching the PDF boys. The two Necrons he had dodged turned quickly, razor hands snapping and opening like a rappid dog's teeth as they silently charged.

Across the crater Ignatius was doing little better than the Commissar, his agile frame only managing to barely hold off the frenzied attacks of the ten Necrons surrounding him. The plasma pistol had long since overheated, dropped into the ash water with a boiling hiss. Despight his amazing speed the Inquisitor was losing ground, numerous deep cuts apearing on his body marking each unsuccessfull dodge. But as badly pressed as he was the Inquisitor went on, sending each Necron that came forward back with a huge dent from his specialy crafted gloves and boots. And all the while he wore a crazed grin, froth beginning to form at the corners of his mouth as he shouted his laughter.

Tarkus cursed as the last clip of his bolt pistol finally went dry, forcing him to bash the next Flayed One with the pistol itself. Though innefective the attack managed to keep the blood soaked Necron back long enough for Tarkus to get a running start. But as he turned to run the Commissar came face to face with the remaining dozen Necrons, now covered in the torn flesh and bits of clothing from the PDF boys that had come with him. They walked slowly toward him, seeming to know he had nowhere to run. As they arpouched Tarkus got his first good look into the sickly glowing eyes of the Necron, and saw the death of all life inside. His vision went purple around the edges, from either blood loss or terror as the metal creatures closed in on him. Please dear emperor Tarkus thought, not like this!

And even as he thought it the Necrons stopped as one, turning from him as though he had never been there. Tarkus backed away from the prone things unsteadly, not even sure which way to run. The Flayed Ones all looked up as a thunderous roar filled the air. Tarkus dove away just as the familier sound drove home in his mind. Eight trails of heavy bolter fire streamed into the crater from the sky, shredding the immobile Necrons like tissue paper. Standing up from the foul tasting water Tarkus looked to the sky, searching for the source of the life saving fire.

Sinking into the ample space of the multi leveled crater like an avenging Titan, an Imperial gunship poured bolter fire from its many barrels like water from a fountain. Tarkus felt the terror melt away, lifting a bleeding arm and shouting a ragged victory cry over the sound of the bolter fire. His smile faded as the remaining Necrons vanished in a flash of emerald light, followed by a thunderclap of displaced air. His mind went blank at the sudden disapearance. He fell onto his rear exausted in mind and body, not even sure if he should be happy they had disapeared.

"Hello up there!" Ignatius cuped his gloved hands to his mouth to be heard above the roar of the ship's engines. "You wouldn't happen to see a hat from up there would you?" As he finished one of the barrels of the gunship lit up once more, sending a bolt so close to the Inquisitor's foot that his surprised face was splashed with ash water. "So I take that as a no?" He giggled, wiping off the grey water as best he could. A moment later the gunship's forward ramp descended with a hiss, grinding into the blasted concrete at the edge of the pool.

Tarkus watched the lone form march down the ramp, choosing to remain sitting in the dirty but oddly relaxing cold water. His Boss made his way quickly toward the ship, meeting the woman who had come out at the bottom of the ramp. From where he sat he could tell the woman was dressed much like Ignatius, though without the hat or shaded glasses. She was pretty he thought, though her face seemed set in a constant frown under her straight black hair.

"Claudia, how good," Ignatius greeted the dour looking woman, reaching a hand out to aid her down the ramp. Instead of a hand she returned a foot, delivered with the same impassive frown she had when she had come down the ramp. Ignatius went down to his knees with a grunt, both hands going to his injured crotch instinctively. Secound time that week, Tarkus thought with a grin.

"Ignatius," The Claudia returned the greating with a level voice, her monatone beginning to creep out Tarkus from his safe haven in the murky water. "I thought I'd finally gotten rid of you when the _Benevolent Wrath_ blew up..." She commented, stepping past the Inquisitor without a backward glance. Tarkus tied to avoid her gaze, remembering the hatefull woman's actions from his earlier years with Ignatius. Inquisitor Claudia Macdowell was one of the most cold hearted people Tarkus had ever met, and for some one who worked with Inquisitor Ignatius that was saying something.

Claudia was a tall woman, though not as tall as Ignatius by several inches. She wore her crimson and black Sororitas power armor over her Inquisitor coat as she almost always did, a chainsword strapped across her back beside a pair of gold gilt bolt pistols. She was a scary woman, the kind only a man like Ignatius would assosiate with.

"Nope, survived that one," Ignatius explained, getting to his feet with one more groan and joining Claudia at the edge of the pool. Tarkus stood too, feeling silly sitting in a pool of filthy water to avoid her. She greated him with a handshake instead of a foot, which Tarkus had already braced himself for. Tarkus met her eyes only long enough to see that she still possessed the long white scare across her chin from her last meeting with his Boss, when she had tried to abandon them both on a dying warship. It had been the latest in a long chain of attack and counter attack between the two Inquisitors.

"Tarkus," She said, almost breaking his hand with her iron grip. "Good to see he hasn't gotten you killed yet." Tarkus nodded nervously, returning to Ignatius's side by reflex. He was pretty sure there was some kind of code of conduct for feuding Inquisitors that prevented her from just shooting them both on sight, but not too sure.

"I am of course working on that," Ignatius responded with a grin that left not question as to whether or not he was joking. Tarkus could have sworn he saw the beginnings of a smirk on the calluss woman's face. "So are you here for the Necrons or the Chaos fellows?" Ignatius asked casually as they survead the detruction he had wreaked on the Underhive with a single misplaced bolt and a rather large tank of flammable liquid. The Governor wasn't going to be happy about that, for all the good being unhappy could do him in the face of an Imperial Inquisitor.

"Tyranids," Claudia answered just as casually. Ignatius nodded as though it were a simple and understandable answer. But there weren't any Tyranids within a dozen systems of Canuse! As he thought it the two Inquisitors shared a laugh that even a Dark Eldar would call cold. Tarkus blinked in confusion, was he the only sane person there? he supossed he was, when he thought about it.

---

His personal chamber was as dark as night, for he could see without light. The only decoration he allowed himself was a large bisected white and black rug, layed in the middle of the large underground room. In the middle of the rug was an image of a skull, also bisected by black and white which signified it as a symbol of Malal. He sat on the rug now in the typical position of meditation, letting his mind ponder resent events with as much distance as he could muster.

The Mad Inquisitor had survived the Necron attack, which though he hadn't seen coming might still prove usefull. Word would soon spread of a Necron threat, but not soon enough to stop his plan. The arrival of yet another Inquisitor was slightly more troubling. Had the Imperium finally caught wind of what his plan? No, if they had an inkling of what was to come they would have sent a dozen chapters of Space Marines and half the Tempestus Fleet. As it stood they would know of a Necron threat and maybe even something of the true Chaos threat, but not the scope of what was happening on Canuse. His musings were interupted by the silent arrival of his parentice, one of the few beings capable of reaching his doorless retreat.

"It is done," Her mind whispered wearily, just as her physical body began to sway. He was standing beside her with a thought, steadying her with an outstretched hand. It had been many years since either of them had actualy been put anywhere neer their limit, but that day had been a day of many firsts. She leaned her ever cloaked form on him as a human daughter might lean on a father, he kept his revultion at the thought carefully in check.

"You have done well," He spoke to her comfortingly, more because he knew she needed to hear it from him than that he actually thought it. She nodded her head against him and he felt her aura turn to one of satisfaction.

"The Necron Lord of Canuse is gone and they will never know me for what I truly am," She explained with soft spoken triumph." Killing a Necron Lord would have been a simple task for either of them, but assuming the identity of the Lord afterwards was the hard part. It had taken him years just to find out how they communicated, and many more to reproduce it.

"You have done well," He repeated, leading her drowsy body to the plush rug. "Sleep as you have earned," She complied without comment, falling into a fitfull slumber on his rug. He watched her sleeping form rise and fall in the slow breath of sleep, not for the first time contimplating killing her. Truly he held no ill feelings for her, and in truth had even grown as close to being fond of some one as was possible for a being like him to be. But the destructive nature of his God ever called to him, demanding the blood of Chaos even if it had to be the blood of his own worshippers. He held the urge in check with a fraction of his indomitable will, instead settling back into his meditation next to his sleeping aprentice.

"Soon," He whispered to himself, his mind invisioning the carnage to come. "Soon..."

++I will soon be needing an original male Eldar name, if anyone has any recomendations I could really use the help! P.S any comments or cunstructive critisisms on Warhammer 40K lore would be welcome. Thanks much and as always, The Emperor Protects++


	10. Chapter 10

Ch.9 Friend's like these

"From the journal of Inquisitor Claudia Macdowell"

_At last count my body bears seven scars from my encounters with the madman Dante Ignatius. A plasma burn from his first misfire with his now beloved plasma pistols, three knife wounds from a battle I started after becoming fed up with him, a small sliver missing from my left ear lobe from a heretic laspistol Ignatius "forgot" to warn me about, a bite mark on my wrist (will not be discussing that one), and most importantly an augmetic shoulder replacement from our last meeting onboard the Benevolent Wrath._

Tarkus stood with the others in the bridge of Inquisitor Claudia's ship, trying to stay as far out of the way as possible. Why in the hell Ignatius had seen it fit to leave him with one of his worst enemies was beyond him. But more than likely it was just to spite him, seemed like something he'd do anyway.

"The storm has come," Claudia's navigator spoke from his throne. The Inquisitor nodded sagely and frowned at the holo image of the planet before them.

"Are we picking up any Tyranid activity?" She questioned the old man. Charles sighed and nodded wearily.

"Tyranid planetary landing organisms have exited warp space and are closing in on the planet's picket fleet." After a moment he added, "Battle projections estimate one hundred percent human fatality amongst the fleet within five hours of first contact. The Tyranid are simply too numerous for such a lightly guarded system to hold off."

Tarkus almost shivered at the old man's nonchalant tone. It was like he was reading off a morning to do list. At least with his boss the uncaring attitude could be blamed on his craziness. Settled into one of the viewing chairs one of Claudia's other followers finally spoke up.

"That sounds bad…" She murmured like a child. Ah yes, Bella. She had been with the Inquisitor the last couple of times Tarkus had seen her. And she remained her happy go lucky self as always. Come to think of it she would have been more at home following his boss. Birds of a crazy feather should flock together.

"No Shit," The towering brute next to Claudia spat, fingering the ignition of his flamer in annoyance. Tarkus didn't know his name until five minutes ago, and he wished he'd never had occasion to either. "Why are we even discussing this? Shouldn't we be planetside right now, getting ready to fight?" Tarkus bit back a comment, unwilling to draw attention dispight the outspoken idiocy of Cal.

"For now we focus on the Necron threat," Claudia tapped her chin thoughtfully as she spoke. "Continue the planetary scanning," Charles nodded absentmindedly and went back to work on the panel before him. Then she turned and looked Tarkus right in the eye.

"Yes?" Tarkus kept a whimper out of his voice, but his gut was starting to get that old feeling again. The Inquisitor kept the stair up and told him.

"I have things under control here for now," Where was this going? Maybe he could finally get some sleep? "I want you and my team back on Sheroka hive to help coordinate the defense long enough for the scanners to locate the tomb complex." Frak! He knew it wouldn't be anything good. Bell yipped gleefully and jumped from her chair.

"I'll pack my overnight bag!" Tarkus and Claudia shared a rare moment of mutual annoyance. What he wouldn't give to know even one person who wasn't homicidal or straight up nuts. Cal grunted an affirmative and gestured to the bridge exit.

"Lets get you some heavy firepower." Tarkus shrugged and patted his bolter in its holster.

"I've fought nids before with just this," The veteran jungle fighter merely gave another shrug and left without him. That left him with the Inquisitor and the indisposed navigator. He shuffled his feet for a few minutes, waiting for her to threaten him, or maybe just cut to the chase and put a round in his foot.

"Commissar," She spoke almost soothingly. He had never seen her face so calm before. She could pass for pretty like this. He mentally blanched and shook the thought away. "You know I have nothing but respect for you," She let here gaze drop back to the map, her voice hardening once more. "It is your "boss" I detest…"

"Mam?" This line of conversation was taking his mind into dangerous territory. And it was all a little too unexpected.

"All I mean to say is that if Dante Ignatius were to fall in the coming hours," She spoke slowly, as though she were considering each word. "You have a place on my ship… if you wish."

"Uh… much obliged Lord Inquisitor," Tarkus sputtered. He departed so hastily he almost missed her mumble.

"Call me Claudia,"

Times were getting weirder all the time.

-( )-

"The paths of fate are unwinding much as you predicted," The Exarch whispered behind her. She kept her attention on the rune stones laid out on the plinth before her. "The mon keigh will fall long before the old enemy has risen,"

"If things are left as they are they will indeed," The Farseer let the rest remain unspoken. The Fire Dragon Exarch looked down on the rune stones passively, unable to see the true meaning behind them as she did. In truth the future was ever changing, moving down one of a countless millions of possible realities. The task of the Farseer was to narrow down the possibilities and exploit the knowledge for the benefit of the Craftworld.

"Then we are to intervene on behalf of those treacherous animals?" He spat coldly.

"We intervene on behalf of the safety of the Craftworld," She corrected the temperamental warrior. Though neither of them wore the traditional helms of their orders within her quarters both kept emotionlessly blank faces most of the time, even when angered. A habit born of millennia of mental training and control she knew firsthand. Even his brief flare of anger was more than most of the Eldar were willing to show.

"But Farseer," He started but halted mid word when she raised a hand to silence him.

"Do you doubt me now Sheoth?" She invoked his informal name as a reminder of the closer relationship they had shared for close to a thousand years now. He lowered his eyes shamefully, locks of silver hair obscuring his face.

"Never that Vera," He bowed deeply, a hand resting on his chest. Vera lowered her hand and finally stood from her position before the plinth. Sheoth raised his head and looked on her flawless face. "My warriors will be ready within the hour,"

"Thank you for your trust," Vera whispered, letting him leave her chambers reluctantly. She couldn't bear to tell him the rest of what her visions had shown her. In a matter of hours a battle the likes of which the galaxy had rarely seen would begin in the skies over Canuse, and her blood would be spilt in the darkest depths of the planet.

Farseer Vera dropped back into poison before the plinth, trying to regain her focus. Soon enough the mad Inquisitor would reach the Chaos Lord responsible for all of this. The threads of fate had shown her this much for certain. She just had to make sure he had the time he needed to do what must be done.

-( )-

Dana stood on the city's outer wall, her eyes fixed on the night sky. She knew little about what was going on but what she had learned from the Inquisitor's companion wasn't comforting. A doom was descending on her homeland. And she was powerless to stop it.

Canuse had been blessedly spared the horrors of war so common everywhere else in the Imperium. Now all at once the enemies of mankind had surfaced to destroy them all. And all that stood before them was… Dana let the thought drift away as another joined her lonely vigil.

"Couldn't sleep I see," Dana greeted the little girl whom Ignatius had brought with him. Twerp nodded her head sleepily and hoisted herself the rest of the way off the old ladder. She was wearing an ill fitted uniform Dana recognized as one of the city garrison officer's. She could only hope the man had a spare in his quarters.

"Tarkus told me that if I looked closely I would see them coming," Dana couldn't bring herself to say the word Tyranid, as though it would suddenly make the situation real. Twerp gave another nod and leaned onto the rampart next to her. In the city below them the local garrison was milling about preparing what scant defenses they had at their disposal.

"Look!" Dana suddenly yelped, her finger tracing a faint path of light on the horizon. Before it vanished a dozen more joined it, painting the sky with streaks of silver. They were beautiful, seeing them now. It was too bad they signaled the beginning of the end.

Twerp's eyes narrowed, following the false shooting stars to their descent far off. She was rigid under her stolen uniform. Her hand was resting comfortingly on the grip of her civilian issue laspistol. Dana let her gaze fall on the young one next to her. It broke her heart to see such a pretty girl so used to pain and fear. She had the eyes of a killer, one who had seen horrors enough for three lifetimes.

But it was also a cold comfort to be close to someone who could face what was to come. She wasn't alone, she had to remind herself. There were people out there would always be ready to stand against the darkness. The lesser of two evils if ever there was one. The Inquisitor would save them all. When she said it to herself Dana could almost believe it.

Both of them jumped in surprise when Dana's new data slate blared static from her pocket. She retrieved it hastily and was surprised to find an incoming signal from off world. Twerp drew close to her, silent curiosity printed on her confused face as she leaned in to listen. Dana accepted the signal and a voice cried out into the night.

"_Ing in hot! I repeat this is Imperial Inquisitor Claudia Mcdowell to all planetary forces, my ship is heavily damaged and making emergency planet fall! We are being followed by enemy forces and need immediate military support! Landing coordinates thirty seven, twenty four alpha. Coming in hot!"_

Twerp looked back to Dana as the signal went dead.

"We need to help them," Dana whispered fearfully. Twerp vigorously nodded her agreement, her friend was on that ship! They hit the ladder running, Twerp sliding down with practiced ease and Dana making her way unsteadily on her newly replaced leg. She was almost certain there was nothing they could do to help, but if this little girl could fight then by the Emperor she would too.

"The Governor has a backup shuttle in the port, come on!" They ran into the night, ready to do what they could.

-( )-

Out on the grassy flatlands beyond Sheroka hive Imperial Inquisitor Dante Ignatius stood alone next to the motor bike he had "requisitioned" from an unfortunate citizen. The fog that ever covered his mind wouldn't reveal to him why he had come all the way out there but he just hummed a tune and counted blades of grass. These things tended to work themselves out.

The glade he had gotten to in his count suddenly disappeared beneath a metal plate as a ship appeared out of nowhere close enough for him to lick, which he briefly considered. The ship was completely inhuman, smooth arches of black and white terminating in points of precise sharpness. The only thing it brought out of Dante's mind was a vague desire to purchase some of those nifty spiked shoulder plates he'd seen a Space Marine wear once.

Ignatius remained still as a ramp descended from the belly of the alien ship. The edge of it nearly clipped the edge of his newly patched hat. He took a mental note of the insult, patting the remaining bottle of laxatives in his pocket. Almost the moment the ramp touched the ground a thin figure clad in flowing black robes appeared in the entrance. She moved down with inhuman grace, her helmeted head not bobbing in the slightest.

"Dante Ignatius," The Eldar greeted him, her voice doubled by the speakers in her pointed helmet. She removed it with ease, raven hair spilling out behind her pale face.

"Farseer Vera," Ignatius returned, pulling the name from somewhere in his mind too muddled for him to remember where he got it. Oh well, it happened more and more often the longer he went on and things had gone well so far. It didn't strike him as odd that he knew a Xeno by name. He knew a lot weirder things than that, some of them involving Orcs.

"My forces are holding off the main body of the splinter fleet in orbit," Dante nodded his head, pretending he knew what in blazes she was talking about. "Our scanners have located the Necron tomb complex." Ah, now they were getting somewhere!

"I think…" Dante struggled for a moment to get his thoughts straight. "There might be Necrons on this planet!" The Farseer gave him a blank look. The silence became uncomfortable quickly.

"Yes well," She was almost sputtering in indignation. "We should be on our way to the tomb," Dante shrugged and followed her up the ramp.

"Those old maids in the Inquisition are going to love hearing about my new Eldar chauffeur!" Before the ramp closed behind them he added. "Oh and don't let me forget to buy some pauldrons when this is done!"

Vera sighed in resignation; she had almost forgotten how taxing Ignatius could be on the nerves.

++ Writer's note: THAT'S RIGHT PEOPLE DANTE IGNATIUS IS BACK! I am in it till the end this time, all other projects are on hold till the end of book one in the Chronicles of Dante Ignatius. Any suggestions, comments, or even complaints are welcome in the form of a review. Thanks for sticking with me, and as always The Emperor Protects!++

-Inquisitor Herron-


	11. Chapter 11

Ch.10 Three Fold

"Commissar Tarkus to all Imperial PDF forces!"

_Rggg... I repeat this is Commissar Tarkus ordering all planetside Imperial forces to prepare for immediate defensive action. (Static burst overrides audio)tside of Sheroka hive, rescue is secondary to city defense. Hold the line in the name of the Emperor even if all you have is a broken chair leg and half a man worth of courage!  
_  
Tarkus pulled the Inquisitor the last few feet from the burning hulk of her ship with a pained growl and fell to his knees next to her prone body. His vision was obscured by blood pouring down his brow but even so he could see Lord Claudia was going to be out of action for a while. Just his luck that he had been the only one still able enough to drag the others out, busting his ass once again while everyone else was busy sleeping.

"Frak," Tarkus spat into the cooling night air. The psychotic Bell had starting grumbling into the grass when Tarkus dropped her away from the ship and was up and clutching her head as Tarkus massaged the bridge of his nose. Her robes were stained with soot and blood, half of one sleeve missing and the exposed arm covered in deep gashes from the twisted metal she had been sent into by the crash.

"Ow, I think I bumped my head!" She whined to herself. Tarkus would have muttered a curse but his head was still barely keeping itself together. Emperor willing the message had gotten out and help was on its way. But it was unlikely, the vox system had been on fire when he had found it. "Hey," She suddenly perked up a bit and looked his way with a frown. "Where's Charlie?" Tarkus thought about it for a minute, then realised he didn't have the time or energy to pad it for the girl. He raised a shaking hand and pointed to the smoldering remains of the ship.

"Didn't survive the crash," He spit up a wad of blood and groaned again. Didn't survive was an understatement, the aged navigator was in a dozen pieces covering the bridge when Tarkus forced the door open. It was a miracle that the Inquisitor had survived at all. Bell's lip quivered a bit but she didn't produce the wail he had expected.

"What do we do now?" She whimpered, looking over the crumpled forms of Claudia and Cal. Tarkus shrugged tiredly. They had done all they could from there, now it was all a matter of who would find them first Imperials, Necrons, Cultists or tyranids. And judging from the meteoric masses dropping from the sky like a shower he placed his money on the nids.

"We wait and do what we can for them," Bell nodded firmly, happy to be helping her "friends" he guessed. It must be great to work with people who don't hate you, he thought idly through the haze of pain. Bell set about repositioning the two and making them comfortable while Tarkus continued to watch the night sky and the rain of oncoming enemies.

Before long he spotted a growing light coming from the distant form of Sheroka Hive. Bell looked up from her tending and her signature grin came back in an instant. Tarkus pushed himself to his feet as the growing shape of a small civilian air transport became clear. Well he wasn't being torn apart by bolter fire, so it looked like help had arrived. However when the familiar face of Dana Printes he almost blanched.

"What in blazes are you doing here?" He sputtered as the mousy woman awkwardly jumped from the passenger compartment.

"Helping?" Dana answered unsure of what the problem was. Before Tarkus could answer the transports engine died down and another familiar face emerged next to her.

"Well that answers a lot," Tarkus sighed, though a little smile found its way to his face as Twerp pulled him into a hug. They parted and each looked back to the broken ship and the injured comrades.

Twerp raised an eyebrow questioningly, gesturing to the ship. Tarkus shook his head and rubbed his hair back, realising distantly that his Commissar's cap was surely burnt to a cinder in the ship by now.

"Don't ask," He waved it off. They needed to get moving before the Tyranid forces recovered from planetary landing and reformed into a moving ocean of teeth and claws. The question was where they were headed. Inquisitor Ignatius was surely on his way to the Necron tomb by now, but the Tyranid hoard was going to be on the unprepared city in a matter of hours.

"Prepare the ship!" All three whirled around at the wretched sounding voice behind them. Inquisitor Claudia was back on her feet, but only just. One look told him her right arm was a shattered mess and she had a concussion at best. Her face was painted completely in blood and she was leaning heavily on to her chainsword like a crutch. That she was speaking at all spoke volumes for the toughness of the cold Inquisitor.

"You can't," Tarkus stammered but the Inquisitor silenced him with a bloodstained glare.

"I can and am," She rasped through clenched teeth. "Get this ship in the air... now." Twerp looked to Tarkus for confirmation which he reluctantly gave after a moment. Looking at her like this, nearly broken but pushing onward Tarkus thought back to that strange moment before they had made planetfall.

"Set the course for Sheroka Hive,"

"You need medical attention," He pulled her arm across the back of his neck to support her as she limped to the ship.

"Shut up," She growled into his ear. Oh well, at least he tried...

-( )-

"We have arrived," Farseer Vera whispered to the minds of her soldiers aboard the ship. From her position in the exit bay she could feel the mind of her lover on the bridge, and the turmoil inside it.

"Peace Sheoth," She reassured him. All around her Eldar Guardians and Aspect Warriors prepared for the coming battle. With the exception of the human Inquisitor, who was finding amusement in barking out ignored orders from inside the stolen helmet of a Warp Spider (the wide brimmed hat placed atop it made the image at once comical and frightening to the younger warriors). She had gone to great efforts to make sure her people knew ahead of time not to kill the mad Inquisitor, no matter how hard it was to resist.

"I should be by your side," Sheoth's mind called back to her. She sighed and let a small smile creep by.

"I will never understand how you manage to be so loyal and so maddeningly stubborn at the same time," A ting of bitter amusement followed the response.

"If I were truly stubborn I wouldn't be standing on the bridge while my love prepares to die..." True enough she supposed. But the time for distractions was past. Vera placed her ceremonial helm over her head and stood before her followers, witchblade grasped tightly in its sheath at her side.

"Warriors of Biel-tan," She addressed them vocally as well as with her mind. Inquisitor Ignatius stood beside her as though he had always been there, the helm returned to a mortified Ward Spider. He nodded almost supporting and twirled one hand for her to hurry. "You know your duty, the entrance to the complex must be held at all costs!" The warriors nodded head respectfully, each as composed as if they were simply preparing for a midnight stroll.

"Can we hurry this along?" Ignatius suddenly added in a whine. "Holding this bomb is making my trigger finger itchy!" He tapped at the satchel containing her people's specially made explosive meaningfully. A few muttered curses issued from the crowd, a few of the less disciplined Guardians fingered weapons warily. Vera calmed them with an upraised palm and continued.

"The... human," She paused for a moment, holding back the typical racial slur used for the humans. This madman had at least a tenuous grasp of Eldar speech and her previous encounters had taught her he was not to be insulted lightly. "Will accompany a squad of our greatest warriors to the heart of the Necron tomb, wherein he will place our explosive and retreat before detonation." Going over the plan was simply a formality and precaution in case Ignatius's attention had wandered over the last few hours. Each of her warriors knew what was to be done, and would die happily to see it so.

"I like that part of the plan," Ignatius grinned and began tapping the satchel again.

"We near the location of the complex entrance tunnel, prepare yourselves!" As the warriors began final preparations Vera cast a sidelong glance at Inquisitor Dante Ignatius and hopped bitterly she had not seen incorrectly, and in doing so doomed them all.

-( )-

Tarkus squinted through the exhaust winds of the departing transport. All around him the PDF forces of Sheroka Hive were milling about the wall hectically preparing for the coming storm. Further down the wall Inquisitor Claudia was waving her good arm and directing as best she could in the general panic that had overtaken the area.

"This is a cluster frak," He muttered to himself. The pressure pack on his forehead itched and his whole body felt like it was going to fall apart any minute now. The Inquisitor looked even worse off, her shattered arm bound to her chest in a tight sling and a dozen bandages and packs littering what was left of her armor. Still she managed to cut an imposing figure as she scarred the living hell out of the PDF boys with her bellowed commands.

Neither of them were fit for battle, and that went double for the defensive forces he'd seen so far. They would be damned lucky if half of them managed to not hold their guns backwards when the battle started. And somehow in all the chaos he'd managed to loose his boss... again. One could only hope it would all work out, which it did tend to in a weird way around Ignatius.

"Inqiusitor," Tarkus called out questioningly. She stopped her movement and glared at him, waiting for more. But his eyes were on the night sky, where he could just barely make out some kind of shapes. "GARGOYLES!" He bellowed as the flying monsters swooped down from the darkness. He should have seen it coming, Tyranids loved to send those flying monsters to soften targets for the main hoard.

His hand flammer came up just in time as one of the screeching masses came at him, claws opened to rip him to ribbons. His vision went white as the burning promethium poured forth and vaporized the Gargoyle in mid flight. His night vision blown to hell Tarkus stumbled on in the general direction he'd seen the Inquisitor last, launching a constant stream of fire above him and dropping dozens of Gargoyles as he went.

All across the outer wall of the hive a frantic hail of lasbolts peppered the swarming invaders. But as he had feared panic was already setting in and half of them were simply firing blind before being yanked away to a messy demise. But higher up on the second tier wall the dozen or so hastily prepared defensive storm bolters Inquisitor Claudia had ordered were lighting up the night sky, killing hundreds of Tyranid despite lack of training or skill on the part of the freshly recruited operators.

Tarkus finally found the Inquisitor waving her chainsword frantically in her good hand as three Gargoyles took turns trying to draw her atention away for the kill.

"Close your eyes!" Tarkus shouted, pouring burning death on all three with a wave of his hand. Claudia had listened, dropping her stance and closing her eyes while the things fell to the ground around her in smoking heaps. She stood again when it was over, covered in ash blood and worse but smirking none the less.

"Good of you to join in," It was the closest he was going to get to a thank you, so he nodded his head and looked around. The Storm Bolters were mopping up the Gargoyles remarkably well, and even the PDF boys were managing to pull together somewhat and return fire. Before long the bolters changed aim completely, firing at such a severe downward slope Tarkus could swear they were tryinbg to hit the outer wall.

"What in the name of The Empeor are they doing!" Tarkus shouted, shielding his eyes from the tracer fire as it blazed a dozen feet apove his head.

"New targets," Claudia answered, leaning tiredly on the wall. Tarkus made his way carefully and what he saw almost didn't register.

"Oh frak," The grassy plains outside the hive were one moving mass of the monsters, countless millions of the typical Gaunts surrounding a pepper of the larger and more dangerous Carnifexs, Lictors and Tyrants. The hoard was closing the negligible distance to the wall faster than he thought possible from his previeous encounters with Tyranids.

And closing in on them at just above eye leavel (which for them was twelve stories up a stone wall) at the head of the charge was a monster the likes of which Tarkus hadn't even dreamed of. The thing was trully the most massive living thing he had even seen, skittering along on tree sized pointed legs and aiming bioweapons at the wall as it screamed.

"They have a Titan," Tarkus muttered, too shocked to do any more shouting. Suddenly the Titan's weapon apendage lit up with a pusling green light and a blod of goo the size of a Lemon Russ shot toward them.

"Move!" Claudia shrieked, diving at Tarkus and taking them both over the lip of the wall. As he sailed down into the depths of the lower city Tarkus could see the section of the wall he'd been on, melting into glass as human lives ended in screaming agony. He wasn't sure how far he had fallen before suddenly he heard himself land and the world went dark...

-( )-

"The Tyranid are overrunning the city," She told him coldly. He scoffed at her anger, as though she could do anything to hurt him anyway.

"It changes nothing," He told her calmly. "By the time the bugs are finished with the human defenders we will be long departed with our army." She didn't answer for a moment, letting herself fume under the emerald light of the waking Monoliths. All around them hundreds of thousands of the skeletal Necron soldiers poured about, preparing to execute the will of their unknowingly replaced Lord.

"You didn't know about either of the Inquisitors," She whispered venomously. "You didn't know about the Eldar, or the Tyranid, or even if I would succede in replacing the Necron Lord..." She left the rest unsaid. He considered his next words carefully, and willed himself not to destroy her then and there.

"If you have doubts as to my abilities yoyu are of course free to leave," Neither one needed to voice the unsaid threat. They both knew she would never survive the leaving.

"If not," He went on, gesturing for her to follow. "Then we continue as planned once the Inquisitor and the Eldar are finished trying to knock on our front door." She fell into step behind her master as he made his way to the end of the Monolith room. The Necrons didn't see anything when they looked at him and saw only their Lord when they looked at her, a trick which was drawing heavily on her not inconsiderable power. Yet another reason she could ill aford to bring about his wrath.

"Let me meet them," She was bristling for a fight after too long spent trapped in the anceint depths of the tomb complex. Her Master seemed to consider it breifly before nodding his head.

"Take a few of our friends and see if you can't disuade them," She felt a weight off her shoulders as the strain of mantaining the illusion fell to her master. "I shall keep the image up while you are away," His voice didn't even falter as he took the mental weight, it didn't even phase him. She would have shivered if she still had physical emotional reactions.

"Be back soon," She forced some measure of nonchalance as she vanished, but the dark laughter that followed her let her know she had fooled no one.

When she rematerialized it was in one of the uppermost tunnels in the complex, near the entrance. The first thing she noticed was the group standing before her, the seconds the piles of smoking Necron ruins covering the floors behind them.

"So you people aren't wholly without skill," She spoke in the voice of a little girl, savoring the fear she felt immonating from all of them... all but one. The Eldar warriors and even their much vaunted Farseer were terrified at the prospect of facing their old enemy the Necrons once again. But the man standing before them was... empty, she couldn't feel anything from him.

"I speak for myself," The tall lanky man informed her in a high pitched tone. "But no, this lot are completelly useless," He finished waving a hand lazily at the Eldar. She blinked in surprise as the man begane to cackle like a madman at his own joke. So the INquisuitor really was crazy, interesting.

"Enough talk," This time she used the voice of a Space Marine she had gutted nearly a hundred years ago. She summoned the powers of the warp to her as her Soldiers began to apear beside her with little pops of displaced air. The Eldar fell into defensice positions behind whatever cover they could find. But the Human stood perfectly still, watching her from behind his smoke covered glasses. The air itself was crackling with energy as the two groups began trading fire to both side of her, but neither side fired apon her or the Inquisitor as though they were for each other to deal with.

"Before I forget," The Inquisitor said, placing a hand on the grip of each pistol. "Remind me later how I did this," And suddenly she could feel him in the Warp three fold.

"What is this!" She screached as power thrummed from the Inquisitor and met her own emonations. The power she felt wasn't his own, it was like he had two other people and all their power jammed into his head.

"Haven't a clue!" Dante Ignatius shouted happily as they charged into one another.

-( )-

_-Writer's Note-_

_Thanks once again for sticking with me this far! Ok so things should be wrapping up here in the next few chapters but I already have solid outlines for the next two tales in the Chronicles of Dante Ignatius and hope to see you there! As for a fun idea I had, anyone who wishes to may submit a character name and bio and the best two will become the newest members of Ignatius's entourage. You will be credited in the beginning of the next Chronicle and your character will be a major part! (No orks, Necrons, Tyranid ect... they actually have to work with and Inquisitor not try to eat him)_

_As Always the Emperor Protects_

_Inquisitor Herron_


End file.
